■vf-^j 
 
CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Professor 
 Howard B. Adelmann 
 
 UNDERGRADUATE LIBRARY 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR 5317.A5 1885 
 Anne of Geierstein; or, the Maiden of the 
 
 "3""l"924 009 680 889 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924009680889 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN 
 
 THE MAIDEN OF THE MIST 
 
 By sir WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 
 
 What ! will the aspiring blood of Lancaster 
 Sink in the ground ? 
 Shakespeare, 
 
 '.^^■a 
 
 ■Vpik. 
 
 §£(^:'^'i^^'' 
 
 
 MOUNT PILATUS, SWITZ^pCANO. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 JOHN B. ALDEN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 URIR IIPD/SDV 
 
"■^ '■"■ TR0W8 
 
 PRINTfNQ AND BOOKBIKDINa COMPANY, 
 NEW YORK, 
 
The mists boil up around the glaciers ; clouds 
 Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphury, 
 Like foam' from the roused ocean — * • 
 
 * * * * I am giddy. 
 
 Manfred. 
 
 The course of four centuries has well-nigh elapsed since 
 the series of events which are related in the following chapters 
 took place on the Continent. The records; which contained the 
 outlines of the history, and might be referred to as proof of its 
 veracity, were long preserved in the superb library of the 
 Monastery of Saint Gall, but perished, withmany of the literary 
 treasures of that establishment, when the convent was plundered 
 by the French Revolutionary armies. The events are fixed by 
 historical date to the middle of the fifteenth century — that 
 important period, when chivalry still shone with a setting ray, 
 soon about to be totally obscured ; in some countries, by the 
 establishment of free institutions, in others, by that of arbitrary 
 power, which alike rendered useless the interference of those 
 self-endowed redressers of wrongs, whose only warrant of au- 
 thority was the sword. 
 
 Amid the general light which had recently shone upon 
 Europe, France, Burgundy and Ital)', but more especially Austria, 
 had been made acquainted with the cjiaracter of a people, of 
 
2 ANN& OF GEIERSTEm. 
 
 whose very existence they had before been scarcely conscious. 
 It is true, that the inhabitants of those countries which lie in the 
 vicinity of the^Alps, that immense barrier, were noti ignorant, 
 that, notwithstanding their rugged and desolate appearance, the 
 secluded Valleys which wipded among those gigantic mountains 
 nourished a race of hunters and shepherds ; men, who, living in 
 a state of primeval simplicit}', compelled from the soil a sub- 
 sistence gained by severe labor, followed the chase over the 
 most savage precipices and through the darkest pine forests, 
 or drove their cattle to spots which afforded them a scanty 
 pasturage, even in the vicinage of eternal snows. But the 
 \ existence of such a people, or rather of a number of small com- 
 munities 'who "followed nearly the same poor and hardy course 
 of life, had seemed to the rich and powerful princes in the neigh- 
 borhood a matter of as little consequence, as it is to the stately 
 herds which repose in a fertile meadow, that a few lialf-starved 
 goats find their scantv food among the rocks which overlook 
 their rich domain. ., 
 
 But wonder and attention began to be attracted toward 
 these mountaineers, about the middle of the fourteenth century, 
 when reports were spread abroad of severe contests, in which the 
 German chivalry, endeavoring to. suppress insurrections among 
 their Alpine vassals, had sustained repeated and bloody defeats, 
 although havingon their side numbers and discipline, and the 
 advantage of the most perfect military equipment then known 
 and confided in. Great was the wonder that cavalry, which 
 made the only efScient part of the feudal armies of these ages, 
 should be routed by men on foot ; that wartiors sheathed ip 
 complete^teel should be overpowered by naked peasants who 
 wore no 'Defensive armor,* and were irregularly provided with 
 pikes, halberds, and clubs; for the purpose of attack ; above all, 
 it seemed a species of miracle, that knights and, nolales of the 
 highest birth should be defeated by mountaineers and shepherds. 
 But tlie repeated victbri^s of the Swiss atLaupen, Sempach, and 
 on other less distinguished occasions, plainly intimated that a 
 new principle of civil organization, as well as of military move- 
 ments, had arisen amid the stormy regions' of Helvetia. 
 
 Still, although the decisive victories which obtained liberty 
 for the Swiss Cantons, as W'ell as the spirit of resolution and 
 wisdom with which the members of the little confederation had 
 maintained themselves against the utmost exertibns of Austria, 
 had spread their fame abroad through all the' neighboring 
 countries ; and although 'they themselves were ConscioCis of 
 the character and actual power which repeated victories had 
 acquired for themselves and their country, yet do'wn to the 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 3 
 
 middle of the fifteenth century, and at a later date the Swiss 
 retained in a great measure the wisdom, mpderation, and 
 simplicity of their ancient manners ; so much so, thati those 
 who were intrusted with the command of the troops of the 
 Republic in battle, were wont to resume the shepherd's stafE 
 when they laid down the truncheon, and, like the Roman 
 dictators, to retire to complete equality with their fellow-citizens 
 from the eminence of military command to which their tdlents, 
 and the call of their country, had raised them. 
 
 It is, then, in the Forest Cantons of Switzerland, in the 
 autumn of 1474, while these districts were in the rude and simple 
 state we have described, that our tale opens. 
 
 Two travelers, one considerably past the prime of life, the 
 other probably two or three and twenty years old, had passed 
 the night at the little town of Lucerne, the capital of the Swiss 
 state of the same name, and beautifully situated on the lake of 
 the Four Cantons. Their dress and character seemed those of 
 merchants of a higher class, and while they themselves journeyed 
 on foot, the character of the country rendering that by far the 
 most easy mode of , pursuing' their route a young peasant lad, 
 from the Italian side of the Alps, followed them with a sumpter 
 mule, laflen apparently with men's wares and baggage, which he 
 sometimes mounted, but more frequently led by thfe bridle. 
 
 The travelers were uncommonly fine-looking men, and seemed 
 connected by some very near relationship, — probably that of 
 father and son ; for at the- little inn where they lodged on the 
 preceding evening, the great deference and respect paid by the 
 youpger to the elder had not escaped the observation of the 
 natives, who', like other sequestered beings, were cufious in pro- 
 portion to the limited means of information which they possessed. 
 They observed also, that the merchants, under pretence of haste, 
 declined opening their bales, or proposing traffic to the inhabit- 
 ants of Lucerne, alleging in excuse that they hgd no commodities 
 fitted for the market. The females of the town were the more 
 displeased with the reserve of tbe mercantile travelers, because 
 they were given to understand that it was occasioned by the 
 wares in which they dealt being too costly to find customer's 
 among the Helvetian mountains ; for it had transpired, by means 
 of their attendant, that the strangers had visited Venice, and 
 had there made many purchases of rich commodities,' which were 
 brought from India and Egypt to that celebrated emporium, as 
 to the common mart of the Western World, and thence dispersed 
 into all quarters of Europe. Now the Swiss maidens had of 
 late made the discovery that gauds and gems were fair to look 
 upon, and though without the hope of being able to possess 
 
4 ANNM OF GEIEHSTETN. 
 
 themselves of such ornaments, they felt a natural desire, to 
 reyiew and handle the t rich stores of the merchants, and some 
 displeasure at being prevented from doing so- 
 
 It was also observed, that tliough ,the strangers were suffi- 
 ciently courteous in their demeapor, they die} not evince that 
 studious anxiety to please, displayed by the traveling pedlers of 
 merchants of Lombardy or Savoy, by whom the inhabitants of 
 the mountains were occasionally visited ; and who had been 
 more frequent in their rounds of late years, since the spoils pf 
 victory had invested the Swiss with some wealth, and, had taught 
 many of them new wants. Those peripatetic traders were civil 
 and assiduous, as their calling required; but the new visitors 
 ■seemed men who were indifferent to traffic, or at least to such 
 slender gains as could be; gathered in Switzerland. 
 
 ; Curiosity was further excited by the circumstance, that they 
 spoke to each other in a language which was certainly neither 
 .German, Italian, nor French, but from which an old main serving 
 in the cabaret, who had once been as, far as Paris, supposed 
 they might be English ; a people of whom it was only known in 
 these mountains, that they were a fierce insular race, at war with 
 the French, for many years,^ and a large body of whom had lone 
 since invaded tfie Forest Cantons, and ,susta!ine'd such p defeat 
 in the valley of Reussweil, as Was well i remembered, by the' 
 gray-haired men of Lucerne, who received th^, t9.1e from their 
 fathers. , . . 
 
 The lad who attended the strangers was soon ascertainecj to 
 be a youth from the Grisons country, who acted as their guide, 
 so far as his knowledge of the mountains permitted. He said 
 they, designed to go to Bile, but seemed desirous to travel by 
 pircuitous and unfrequented routes. The circumstances just 
 mentioned increased the general desire to know more of. the 
 travelers and of their merchandise. Not a bale, iVowever, was 
 unpacked, and the .m'erehants, leaving Lucerne next morning, 
 resumed their toilsome journey, preferring a ' circuitous route 
 and bad roads, through the peaceful cantons of Switzerland, to 
 encountering the ex.^ctions and rapine of , the robber chivalry of 
 Germany, who, like so many sovereigns, made war each at liis 
 own pleasure, and levied tolls and taxes on every one wlio 
 passed their domains of a mile's breadth, with all the insolence 
 of petty tyranny. 
 
 For several hours' after leaving Lucerne, the. journey of our 
 travelers was successfully prosecuted. The road, tliough precip- 
 itous and, difficult, was rendered interesting by those splendid 
 phenomena, which no country exhibits in a more astonishing 
 (.manner than the . mountains pf . Switzerland, where the rocky 
 
ANNK OF GEIERS-TEIN. 5 
 
 pass, the verdant valley, the- broad lake, and the 'rushing tor- 
 rent, the attaribiites of other hills-as well as these, are interspersed 
 with the magnificent and yet fearful horrors of the glaciers, a 
 feature peculiar to themselves. 
 
 xi it was not an age in which the beauties or grandeur of a 
 Fandscape made much impression either on the minds of those 
 who traveled through the country, or who resided in it. To 
 the latterj the objects, however dignified, were familiar, and 
 associated with daily habits ah d with daily toil; and the former 
 saw, perhaps, more terror than beauty in the wild tegion through 
 which they passed, and were rather solicitous to get safe to 
 their night's iqtiart^rs, than to comment on the grandeur of the 
 scenes which lay between them and their place of rest. Yet 
 our merchants, as they proceeded on their journey, could not 
 help being strongly impressed by the character of the scenery 
 around them. Tlieir road lay ajong the side of. the lake, at 
 times level and close on its very margin, at times rising to a 
 great height on 'the side of the mountain, and winding along the 
 verge of precipices wJiich sunk down to the water as sharp and 
 sheer as the wall of 'a castle descending upon the ditch which 
 defends it. At other times it traversed spots of a milder 
 oRaracter, — delightful green' slopes, and lowly retired valleys, 
 affording both pasturage and arable ground, sometimes water- 
 ed by small streams, which winded by the hamlet of wooden 
 huts with their fantastic little church and steeple, meandered 
 round the orchard land the mount of vines, and, murmuring 
 gently as they flowed, found. a;qiiiet passage into the lake. 
 
 " That stream, Arthur," said the elder travelei, as with one 
 consent theystqpped to gaze on such a scene as I have de- 
 scribed, " resembles the life of a good and a happy man." 
 
 f And the .brook, which hurries itself headlong dowii yon dis- 
 tant hill, marking its course by a streak of white foam," an- 
 swered Arthur, — " what does that resemble ? " 
 
 " That of a brave and unfortunate one," replied his father. 
 
 " The torrent for me," said Arthur ; " a headlong course 
 which no human , force can oppose, and then let it be as brief 
 as it is glorious." H"; ; 
 
 " It is a young iftan's thought," replied, his father ; " but I 
 am well aware that it is so rooted' ia thy heart that nothing 
 but the. rude hand of adversity can pluck it- up." 
 
 " As yet the root clings fast to my heart's strings," said the 
 young man ; " and methinks adversity's hand hath had a fair 
 grasp of it." 
 
 ■. ■. V You speak, my son, of what you little understand," said 
 his father. " Know, that till the middlfeiof life.be passed, men 
 
6 4-NNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 scarce, distinguish true prosperity f rom adviersity, or rather they 
 court as the favors of fortune what they should more justly 
 regard as the marks of her displeasure. Look at yonder moun- 
 tain, which wears on its shaggy brow a diadem of clouds, now 
 raised and now depressed, while the sun glances upon, but is 
 unable to dispel it ; — a child might believe it to be a crown of 
 glory — a man knOws it to be the signal of tempest'." 
 
 Arthur followed the direction of his father's eye to the dark 
 and shadowy eminence of Mount Pilatus. 
 
 " Is the mist on yonder wild mountain so ominous then ? " 
 asked the young man. 
 
 " Demand of Antonio," said his father ; " he will tell you the 
 legend." 
 
 The young merchant addressed himself to the Swiss lad who 
 acted as their attendant, desiring to know the name of the 
 gloomy height, which, in that quarter, seems the leviathan of the 
 huge congregation of mountains assembled about Lucerne. 
 
 The lad crossed himself devoutly, as he recounted the popular 
 legend, that the wicked Pontius Pilate, Proconsul of Judea, had 
 here found the termination of his impious life ; having, aftei: 
 spending 3ears in the recesses of that mountain which bears his 
 name, at length, in remorse and despair, rather than in peni- 
 tence, plunged into the dismal lake which occupies the summit. 
 Whether water refused to do the executioner's duty upon such 
 a wretch, or whether, his body being' drowned, his vexed spirit 
 cpntinued to haunt the place where he committed suicide, 
 Antonio did not pretend to explain. But a form was often, he 
 said, seen to emerge, from the gloomy waters, and go, throlagh 
 the action of one washing his hands ; and when he did so, dark 
 clouds of mist gathered first round the bosom of the Infernal 
 Lake (such it had been styled of old), and then wrapping the 
 whole upper part of the mountain in darkness, presaged" a 
 tempest or hurricane,, which was sure to follow in a short space. 
 He added, thit the evil spirit was peculiarly exasperated at the 
 audacity of such strangers as ascended the mountain to gaze at 
 his place of punishment, and that, in consequence, the magis- 
 trates of Lucerne had prohibited any oA from approaching 
 Mount Pilatus, under severe penalties. ilRntonio once more 
 crossed himself as he finished, his legend ; in which act of devo^, 
 tion he was imitated by his hearers, too good Catholics to 
 entertain any doubt of the truth of the story. 
 
 " How the accursed heathen scowls upon us ! " said the 
 younger of the merchants, while the cloud darkened and 
 seemed to settle on the brow of Mount Pilatus. " Vade retro; 
 —be thou defied, sinner I " 
 
Al^^E OP GElERSTMm. f 
 
 A rising wind, rather heard thdn felt, seemed to groan 
 forth, in the tone of a dying lion, the acceptance of the suffer- 
 ing spirit to the irash challenge of the young Englishman. The 
 mountain was seen to send down its rugged sides thick wreaths 
 of heaving mist, which, rolling through the rugged chasms that 
 seamed the grisly hill, resembled torrents of rushing lava pour-, 
 ing down from a volcano. Tlie ridgy precipices, which formed 
 the sides of these huge ravines, showed their splintery and 
 rugged edges, over the vapor, as if dividing from each other the 
 descending. streams of mist which rolled around them. As a 
 strong contraist to this gloomy and threatening scene, the more 
 distant mountain range of Rigi shone brilliant with all the hues 
 of an autumnal sun. ■ ' 
 
 While the travelers watched this striking and varied con- 
 trast, which resembled an approaching combat betwixt the 
 powers of Light and Darkness, their guide, in his mixed jargon 
 of Italian and German, exhorted them to make haste on their 
 journey. The village to which he proposed to conduct them, 
 he said, was yet distant, the road bad, and difficult to find, and 
 if the Evil One " (looking, to Mount Pilatus, and crossing him- 
 self) " should send'his darkness upon the valley, the path would ' 
 be both doubtful and dangerdus. The travelers, thus admon- 
 ished, gathered the capes of their cloaks close round their 
 throats, pulled their bonnets resolvedly over their brows, drew 
 the buckle of the broad belts which fastened' their mantles, and 
 each with a mountain. staff in his hand, well shod with an iron 
 spike, they pursued their journey with; unabated strength and 
 undaunted spirit. 
 
 With every step the scenes around them appeared to change. 
 Each mountain, as if its firm and immutable form were flexible 
 and varying, altered in appearance, like that of a shadowy 
 apparition, as the position of the strangers relative to them 
 changed with their motions, and as the mist, which continued 
 slowly though constantly to descend, influenced the rugged 
 aspect of the hills and valleys which it shrouded with its 
 vappSy mantle. The nature of. their progress, too, never direct, 
 but winding by a narrow path' along the sinuosities of the 
 valley, and making many a circuit round precipices and other 
 obstacles .which it was impossible to surmount, added to the 
 wild variety of a journey, in which, at last, the travelers totally' 
 last any vague idea which they had previously entertained con-' 
 cernihg the direction in which the road, led tliem. 
 
 "I would," said the elder, "we had that mystical needle 
 which in?Lriner& talk of, that points ever to the north, knd 
 enables, them to keep their way on the waters, when there is 
 
8 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN 
 
 neither cape nor headland, sun, moon, nor stars, nor any mark 
 in heaven or earth, to tell them how to steer." ' ' ; 
 
 " It would scarce avail us among these mountains," answeresdi 
 the youth; "for though 'that wonderful needle may keep its' 
 point to the northern Pole-star, when it is on a flat surface like 
 the sea, itis not to be thought it would do so when th'esehuge 
 mountains arise like walls, betwixt the steel and the object of 
 its sympathy." 
 
 "I fear me," replied the father, "we shall find our guide, 
 who has been growing hourly more stupid since he left his own 
 valley, as useless as you suppose the compass would be among 
 the hills of this wild country.— Canst tell, my boy," sald^ he, 
 addressing Antonio in bad Italian, " if we be in the road we 
 purposed ? " 
 
 " If it please Saint Antonio " — said the guide, who was 
 obviously too much confused to answer the question directly, i 
 
 " And that water, half covered with mist, which glimmers 
 through the fog, at the foot of this huge black precipice— is it 
 still a, part of the Lake of Lucerne, or have we lighted upon 
 another since we ascended, that last hjll ? " 
 ■ ; Antonio could only answer that they ought to be oti the 
 Lake of Lucerne still, and that he hoped that what they saw 
 below them was only a winding branch of the same sheet of 
 water. • But he -could say nothing with certainty. 
 
 " Dog of an Italian ! " exclaimed the younger traveleTj 
 " thou deservest to have thy bones broken, for undertaking a 
 csharge which thou art as incapable to perform as thou art to 
 guide us to heaven ! " 
 
 " Peace, Arthur," said his father ; " if you frighten the lad, 
 he runs off, and we lose the small advantage we might have by 
 his knowledge ; if you use your baton, he rewards you with the 
 stab of a knife, — for such is the humor of a revengeful Lom- 
 bard. Either way, you are marred instead of helped.^Hark 
 thee hither,; my boy," he continued, in his indiffererat Italian; 
 " be not afraid of that hot youngster, whom I will not permit 
 to injure thee ; but tell me, if thou canst, the names of the 
 villages by which we are to make our journey to-day." 
 
 The gentle mode in which the elder traveler spoke, reas- 
 sured the lali, who had been somewhat alarmed at the harsh 
 tone and menacing expressions of his younger companion; 
 and he poured forth, in his patois, a flood of names, in which 
 the German guttural sounds were strangely intermixed with the 
 soft accents of the Italian, but which carried to the hearer no 
 intelligible information concerning the object of his question ; 
 so that at .length he was forced to conclude, " Even lead on, in 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. g 
 
 Our Lady's name, or in Saint Antonio's if you like it better ; 
 we shall but lose time,! see, in trying to understand each 
 other.Mn 
 
 They moved on as before, with this difference, that the 
 guide, leading the mule, now went first, and was followed by 
 the other two, whose motions he had formerly directed by call- 
 ing to them from 'behind; The clouds meantime became 
 thicker and thicker, and the mist, whicfh had at first been n 
 thin vapor, began now to descend in the form of a small thick 
 rain, which gathered ■ like dew upon the capotes bf the travelers. 
 Distant rustling and groaning sounds were heard among' the 
 remote mountains, similar to those by which the Evil Spirit c:' 
 Mount Pilatus had seemed to announce the storm. Thd bo}- 
 ''again pressed his companions to advance, but at the same time 
 -threw impediments in the way bf their doing so, by the slow- 
 ness and' indecision which he showed in leading them on. 
 
 Having proceeded in this manner for three Or four mile?, 
 which uncertainty rendered doubly ' tedious, the travelers- were 
 at length engag^ed in a narrow path, running along the verge of 
 a precipice. Beneath was"waf3er, but of what description they 
 could not ascertain. The wind, indeed, which began to be feli 
 in sudden gusts, sometimes swept aside the mist so completely 
 as to show the waves glimmering below ; but whether they 
 were those of the same lake on which their morning journey 
 had commenced, whether it Was another and separate sheet c? 
 water of a similar character, or whether it Was a river or large 
 brook, the view afforded was too indistinct to determine. Thus 
 far was certain, that they were not on the shores of the Lake 
 of Lucerne, where it displays its usual expanse of waters ; for 
 the same hurricane gusts which showed them water in the bot- 
 tom of the glen, gave them a transient view of the opposite 
 side, at what exact distance they could not well discern, but 
 near enough to show tall abrupt rocks and shaggy pine-tree;-, 
 here united in groups, and there singly anchored among the 
 cliffs which overhung the water. This was a more distinct 
 landscape than the further side of the lake would have offerer', 
 had they been on the right road. 
 
 Hitherto the path, though steep and Tugged, was plaini' 
 enough indicated, and showed traces of having been used both 
 byriders and foot passengers. But suddenly, as Antonio witli 
 the loaded mule had reached a projecting eminence, arounc' 
 the peak of which ^ the path made a sharp turn, he stopped 
 short, with his usual exclamation,' addressed to his patron 
 saint. It appeared to Arthur that "the mule shared the terrors 
 of the guide ; for it started back, put forward its fore-feet 
 
10 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 separate from each other, and seemed, by the attitude which it 
 assumed, to intimate a determination to resist every proposal 
 to advance, at the same time expressing horror and fear at the 
 prospect wiiich lay before it. 
 
 * Arthur pressed forward, not only from curiosity, but that he 
 might if possible bear the brunt of any danger before his father 
 came up to share it. In less time than we have taken to tell 
 the story, the young man stood beside Antonio and the mule, 
 upon a platform of rock on which the , road seemed absolutely 
 to terminate, and from the further side of which a precipice 
 sunk sheer dowti, to what depth the mist did not permit him to 
 discern, but certainly uninterrupted for more than three hun- 
 dred feet. 
 
 The blank expression which overcast the visage of the younger 
 traveler, and traces of which might be discerned in the phys- 
 iognomy of the beast of burden, announced alarm and morti- 
 ficatioiJ at this unexpected, and, as it seemed, insurmountable 
 obstacle. Nor did the looks of the father, who presently after 
 came up to the same spot, convey either hope or comfort. He 
 stood with the others gazing on the misty gulf beneath them, 
 and Icjoking all around, but in vain, for some continuation of 
 the path, which certainly had never been originally designed 
 to terminate in this summary manner. As they stood uncer- 
 tain what to do next, the son in vain attempting to discover 
 some mode of passing onward, and the father about to propose 
 that they should return by the road which had brought them 
 hither, a loud howl of the wind, more wild than they had yet 
 heard, swept down the valley. AIL being aware of the danger 
 of being hurled from, the precarious station which they occu- 
 pied, snatched at bushes and rocks by which to secure themr 
 selves, and even the poor mule seemed to steady itself in order 
 to withstand the approaching hurricane. The gust came with 
 such unexpected fury that it appeared to the travelers to 
 shake, the very rock on which they stood, and would have swept 
 them from its surface like so many dry leaves, had it not been 
 for the momentary precautions which they had taken for their 
 safety. But as the wind rushed down the glen, it completely 
 removed for the space of three or four minutes the veil of mist 
 which former gusts had only served to agitate or discomposfij 
 and showed them the nature and cause of the interruption which 
 they had met with so unexpectedly. 
 
 The rapid but correct eye of Arthur was thein able to ascer- 
 tain that the path, after leaving: the platform of rock on which 
 they stood, had originally passed upward in the same direc- 
 tion along the edge of a steep bank of earth, which had then 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. ii 
 
 formed the upper covering of a stratum of precipitous rocks. 
 But it had chanced in some of the convulsions of nature which 
 "take place in those wild regions, where she works upon a scale 
 so formidable, that the earth had made a slip, or almost a pre- 
 cipitous descent, from the rock, and been hurled downward 
 with the path, which was traced along thfe top, and with 
 bushes, tree^, or whatever grew upon it, into the channel oi 
 the stream ; for such they could now discern the water beneath 
 them to be, and not a lake or an arm of a lake, as they had 
 hitherto supposed. ' 
 
 The immediate cause of this phenomenon might probably 
 have been an earthquake, not unfrequent in that country. The 
 bank of earth, now a confused rnass of ruins inverted in its 
 fall, showed sotiie trees growing in a horizontal position, and 
 others, which, having pitched on their heads in their descent, 
 we're at once inverted and shattered' to pieces, and lay a sport 
 to the streams of the river which they had hferetofore covered 
 with gloomy shadow. The gaunt precipice which remained 
 behind, like the skeleton of some huge monster divested of its 
 flesh, formed the wall of a fearful abygs, resernbling the face of a 
 newly wrought quarry, more dismal of aspect from the rawness 
 of its recent formation, and from its being as yet uncovered 
 with any of the vegetation with which nature speedily mantles 
 over the bare surface even of her sternest cfagsand prcGipices. 
 
 Besides remarking these appearances, whiqh tended to show 
 that this interruption of the road had been of recerit occurrence, 
 Arthur vyas able to observe, oh the further side of the river, 
 higher up the valley, and rising out of the pine forest, inter- 
 spersed with rocks, a square building of considerable height, 
 like the ruiiis of a Gothic tower. "He pointed out this remark- 
 able object to Antonio, and demanded if he knew it ; justly 
 conjecturing that, from the peculiarity of the site, it was a 
 landmark not easily to be forgotten by any who had seen it 
 before. Accordingly, it was gladly and promptly recognized by 
 the lad, who called cheerfully out, that the place was Geierstein, 
 that is, as he eicplained it, the Rock of the Vultures. , He knew 
 it, he said, by the old tower, as well as by ahuge pinnacle of rock 
 which arose^near it, almost in the form of a steeple, to the top 
 of which the lammer-geier (one of the largest birds of prey known 
 to exist) had in former days transported the child of an anqient 
 lord of the castle. He proceeded to recount the vow which was 
 made by the Knight of Geierstein to our Lady of Einsiedlen ; 
 arid, while he spoke, the castle, rocks, woods, and precipices, 
 again faded in mist. But as he concluded his wonderful narra- 
 tive with the miracle which restored the infant again to its father's 
 
12 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 arms, he cried out suddenly, " Look to yourselves— the storm»! 
 — ^the storm ! " It came accordingly, and sweeping the mist 
 before it, again bestowed on the travelers a view of the horrors 
 around them. 
 
 "Ay!" quoth Antonio, triumphantly, as the gust abatefd, 
 " old Pontius loves little to hear of Our Lady of Einsiedjlen ; 
 but; she will keep her own with him — Ave Maria ! " 
 
 " That tower," said the young traveler, " seems uninhabited. 
 I can descry no smoke, and the battlement appears ruinous." 
 
 " It has not been inhabited for many a day, " answered the 
 guide. " But I would I were at it, for.all that. Honest Arnold 
 Biederman, the Landamman" (chief magistrate) " of the Can- 
 ton of Unterwalden, dwells near, and, I warrant you, distressed 
 strangers will not want the best that cupboard and cellar can 
 find them, wherever he holds rule." 
 
 "I have heard of him," said the elder traveler, whom An- 
 tonio had been taught to call Seignor Philipson ; " a good: and 
 hospitable man, and one who enjoys deserved weight with, his 
 countrymen." 
 
 " You have spoken him right, Seignor," answered the guide ; 
 " and I would we could reach his house, where you should be 
 sure of hospitable treatment, and a good direction for your next 
 day's journey. But how we are to get to the Vulture's Castle, 
 unless we had wings like the vulture, is a question bard to 
 answer." 
 
 Arthur replied by a daring proposal, which the reader will 
 find in the next chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER SECOND. 
 
 Away with me — 
 
 The clouds grow thicker— there — now lean on v\B— 
 Place your foot here — here, take this staff, and cling 
 A moment to that shrub^now give me your hand. 
 
 * « ■ « ' * 
 
 The chalet will be gain'd within an hour. 
 
 Manfred. 
 
 After surveying the desolate scene as accurately as the 
 stormy state of the atmosphere would permit^ the younger of 
 the travelers obsen'ed, " In any other country, I should say the 
 tempest begins to abate ; but what to expect'in this land of des- 
 olation, it were rash to decide. If the apostate spirit of Pilate 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIJSr. 
 
 13 
 
 be actually on the blast, these lingering and more distant howls 
 seem to intimate that he is returning to his place of punishment. 
 The pathway hath sunk with the ground on which it was traced 
 —I can see part of it lying down in the abyss, marking, as with 
 a streak of clay, yonder mass of earth and stone. But I think 
 it possible, with your permission, my father, that I could still 
 scramble forward along the edge of the precipice till I come in 
 sight of the habitation which the lad tells us of. If there be 
 actually such a one, there must be an access to it somewhere ; 
 and if I cannot find the path out, I can at least make a signal 
 to those who dwell near the Vulture's Nest yonder, and obtain 
 some friendly guidance." 
 
 " I cannot consent to your incurring such a risk," said his 
 father ; " let the lad go forward, if he can and , will. He is 
 mountain bred, and I will reward him richly." ' 
 
 But Antonio declined the proposal absolutely and decidedly. 
 " I am mountain bred," he said, " but I am no chamois-hunter ; 
 and I have no wings to transport me from cliff to cliff; like a 
 raven— gold is not worth life." 
 
 " And God forbid," said Seigtior Philipson, "that' I should 
 tempt thee to weigh them against each other 1 — Go on, then, my 
 son, — I follow thee.'' 
 
 " Under your favor, dearest sir, no," replied the young man ; 
 " it is enough to endanger the life of one — and mine, far the 
 most worthless, should, by all the rules of wisdom as well as 
 nature, be put first in hazard." 
 
 " No, Arthur," replied his father in a determined voice; 
 "no, my son — I have survived much, but I will not survive 
 thee." 
 
 "I fear not for the issue, father, if you permit me to go alone ; 
 but I cannot — dare not^— undertake a task so perilous, if you 
 persist in attempting to share it, with no better aid than mine. 
 While I endeavored to make a new advance, I should be ever 
 looking back to see how you might attain the station which I 
 was about to leave — And bethink you, dearest father, that if I. 
 fall, I fall an unregarded thing, of as little moment as the stone 
 or tree which has toppled headlong down before me. But you 
 — should your foot slip, or your hand fai-l, bethink you what and 
 how much must needs fall with you ! " 
 
 " Thou art right, my child," said the father, " I still have 
 that which binds me to life, even though I "were to lose in thee 
 all that is dear to me. — Our Lady and our Lady's Knight bless 
 thee and prosper thee, my child ! Thy foot is young, thy hand; ' 
 is strong — thou hast not climbed Plyhlimmon in vain. Be 
 bold, but be wary-^remember there is a man who, failing thee, 
 
t4 ANNE Off GE/MRSrSIN. 
 
 has but one act of duty to bind him to the earth, and, that dis- 
 charged, yrilj soon follow thee." 
 
 The young man accordingly prepared for his journey, and, 
 stripping himself of his cumbrous cloak, showed his well-pro- 
 portioned limbs in a jerkin, of gray cloth, which sat close to his^ 
 person. The father's resolution gave way when his son turnedi 
 round to bid him farewell. He recalledhis permission, and in 
 a peremptory tone forbade him to proceed. But, without listen- 
 ing to the prohibition, Arthur had commenced his perilous ad^ 
 venture. Descending from the platform on which he stood, by 
 the boughs of an old ash-tree, which thrust itself out of the cleft 
 of a rock, the youth was enabled to gain, though at great risk, 
 a narrow ledge, the very brink of the precipice, by creeping along 
 which he hoped to pass on till he made himself heard or seen^ 
 from the habitation, of whose existence the guide had informed; 
 him. His situation, as he pursue4 this bold purpose, appeared 
 sd precarious, that even the hired attendant hardly dared to draw 
 breath as he gazed on him. The ledge which supported him 
 seemed to grow so narrow as he passed along it, as to become 
 altogether invisible, while, sometimes, with his face to, the preci- 
 pice, sometimes looking forward, sometimes; glancing his eyes 
 upward, but never venturing to cast a look belOw, lest his brain 
 should grow giddy at a sight so appalling, he wound his way 
 onward.' To his father and the attendant, who beheld his prog-' 
 ress, it was less that of a man advancing in the ordinary manner, 
 and resting by aught connected with the firm earth, than that of 
 an insect crawling along the face of a perpendicular wall, of whose 
 progressive movement we are indeed sensible, but cannot per- 
 ceive the means of its support. And bitterly, most bitterly, did 
 the miserable parent now lament, that he had not persisted in 
 his purpose to encounter the baffling and even perilous measure 
 of retracing his steps to .the habitation of the preceding night. 
 He should then, at least, have partaken the fate of the son of 
 his love. 
 
 Meanwhile, the young man's spirits were strongly braced 
 for the performance of his perilous task. He laid a powerful" 
 restraint on his imagination, which in general was sufficiently 
 aptive, and refused to listen, even for an instant, to any of the 
 horrible insinuations by which fancy augments actual dangerji 
 He endeavored manfully to reduce all around him to the'scale of 
 ritfLt reason, as the best support of true courage. "This ledge. 
 of tock," he urged to himself, "is but, narrow, yet ithas breadth, 
 enough to support me ; these cliffs and. crevices in the surface 
 are small; and distant, but the one affords as secure a restingr: 
 place to my feet, the other as available a grasp to my hands, as 
 
ANNE OP GBIERSTEtN. 
 
 *s 
 
 if I stood on a platform of a cubit broad, and rested my arm on 
 a balustrade of marble. My safety, therefore, depends on mysfilf i 
 If I move with decision, step firmly, and hold fast, what signifies 
 how near I am to the mouth ot an abyss ?" 
 
 Thus estimating the extent of his danger by the measure of 
 sound sense and reality, and supported by some degree of prac- 
 tice in such exercise, the brave youth went forward on his 
 awful journey, step by step, winning his way with a caution, and 
 fortitude, and presence of mind, which alone Could have saved 
 him from instant destruction. ; At length he- gained a point 
 where a projecting rock formed the angle of the precipice, so 
 far as it had befln visible to him from the platform. This, 
 therefore, was the critical point of his undertaking ; but it was 
 also the most perilous part of it. The rock projected more than 
 six feet forward over the torrent, which he heard raging at the 
 depth of a hundred yards beneath, with a noise like subterran- 
 ean thunder. He examined the spot with the utmost care, 
 and was led by the existence of shrubs, grass and even stunted 
 trees to believe that this rock marked the furthest extent of 
 the slip or slide of earth, and that, could he but turn round the 
 angle df which it was the termination, he might hope to attain 
 the continuation of the path which had been so stra.ngely 
 interrupted by this convulsion 'of nature. ' BUt the crag jutted 
 out so much as to afford no possibility of passing either under 
 or around it ; and as it rose several fbet above the position ' 
 which Arthur, had: attained, it was no easy matter to climb over 
 it. This was, however, the course which he chose, as the only 
 m,pde of surmounting what he hoped might prove the last 
 obstacle to his voyage of discovery. A projecting tree afforded 
 him the, means of raising and swinging himself up to the top 
 of the cragr But he had scarcely planted himself on it, had 
 scarcely a moment to congratulate himself," on seeing, amid a 
 wild chaos of cliffs and wood, the gloomy ruins of Geierstein, 
 with smoke arising, and indicating something like a human 
 habitation beside them, when, to his extreme terror, he felt the 
 huge cliff On which he stood tremble, stoop slowly forward, and 
 gradually sink from its position. Projecting as it was, and 
 shaken as its equilibrium had been by the most recent earth- 
 quake, it lay now so in.'Securely poised, that 'its balance was 
 entirely destroyed, even by the addition of the young man's 
 weight. ' ' 
 
 Aroused by the imminence of the danger, Arthur, by an 
 instinctive attempt at self-preservation, d'rew cautiously back 
 from the falling crag into the tree by which he ' had ascended, 
 aijtdi turned hi^ bead back as if spell-bound, to watch the descent- 
 
i6 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 of, the fatal rock from which he had just retreated. It tottered 
 for two or three seconds, as if uncertain which way to fall ; and 
 had it taken a sidelong direction, must have dashed the adven- 
 turer from his place of refuge, or borne both the tree and him 
 4own headlong ipto the river. After a moment of horrible un- 
 certainty, the power of gravitation determined a direct and 
 forward descent. Down went the huge fragment, which must 
 have weighed zX least twenty tons, rendingarid splintering in 
 its precipitate course the trees and bushes' which'it encountered, 
 and settling at length in the ■channel of the torrent with a din 
 equaJ to the discharge of a hundred pieces of artillery. _ The 
 sound was re-echoed from bank to bank, from precipice to 
 precipice, with emulative thunders,; nor was the tumult silent 
 till it rose into the region of eternal snows, which, equally 
 insensible- to terrestrial sounds, and unfavorable to animal life, 
 heard the roar in their majestic solitude, but suffered it to die 
 away without a responsive voice. 
 
 What, in the meanwhile, were the thoughts of the distracted 
 father, who saw the ponderous rock descend, but could not 
 mark whether his only son had borne it company in its dread- 
 ful fall ! His first impulse was to rush forward along th'e face 
 of the precipieef- which he had seen Arthur so lately traverse ; 
 and when the lad' Antonio withheld him, by tlirowing his 
 arms aroutid him, he turned on the guide -vyith the fury of a 
 bear which had been robbed of her cubs. 
 
 '" Unhand me, fcase peasant," he exclaimed, " or thou diest 
 on the spot ! " 
 
 " Alas ! "■ said the poor boy, dropping on his knees before 
 him, " I, too, have a father ! " 
 
 The appeal went to the heart of the traveler, who instantly 
 let the lad go, and holding up his hands and lifting his eyes 
 toward heaven, sai(J, in accents of the deepest agony, mingled 
 'with devout resignation, " Fiat voluntas tua I — he was my last, 
 and loveliest, and best beloved, and most worthy of my love ; 
 and yonder," he added, " yonder over the glen soar the birds 
 of prey, who are to feast on his young blood.-^But I will see him 
 once more," exclairried the miserable parent, as the huge carrion 
 vulture floated past him on the thick air, — ■" I will s6e my 
 Arthur once more, ere the wolf and the eagle mangle him — I 
 will, see all of him that earth still holds. Detain me not — but 
 abide here, and watch me as I advance. If I fall, as is most- 
 likely, I charge you to take the sealed papers, which you will 
 find in the valise, and carry them to the person to whom they 
 are addressed, with the least possible delay. There is money 
 enough in the purse to bury me with my poor boy, and to cause 
 
ANNE OF GEIBRSTEIN. 
 
 17 
 
 tnasses be said for our souls, and i yet leave you a rich, recom- 
 pense for your journey." 
 
 The honest Swiss lad, obtuse in his understanding, but kind 
 and faithful in his disposition, blubbered as his employer spoke, 
 and, afraid to offer further remonstrance or opposition, saw his 
 temporary master prepare himself to traverse the same fatal 
 precipice, over the verg'e of which his ill-fated son had seemed 
 to pass to the fate i-which, with all 1 the wildness of a parent's 
 anguish, his father was hastening to share. 
 
 Suddenly there was heard from beyond the fatal angle from 
 which the mass of stone had been displaced by Arthur's rash 
 ascent, the loud hoarse sound of one of those hugfe horns, made 
 out of the 'spoils of the, urus, or wild bull, of Switzerland, which 
 in ancient times announced, the terrors of the charge of these 
 mountaineers, and, indeed, served them in war 'instead of all 
 musical , instruments. 
 
 " Hold, sir, hold ! " exclaimed the Grison ; " yonder is a 
 signal from Geierstein. Some one will presently come to our 
 assistance, and show us the safer way to seek for your son — 
 And look you — at yon green bush that is glimmering through 
 the mist, Saint Antonio preserve me, as I see a white cloth dis- 
 played there — it is just beyond the point where the rock fell." 
 
 The father endeavored to fix his eyes on the spot,' but they 
 filled soifast with tears, that they could ,not discern the object 
 which the guide pointed out.— " It is all in vain," he said, 
 dashing the tears from his eyes — " I shall never see more of 
 him than his lifeless remains ! " 
 
 " You will — you will see 'him in life !''' said the Grison ; 
 " Saint Antonio wills it so — See, the white cloth waves again ! '' 
 ,■■ Some remnant of his garments," said the despairing father, 
 — " some wretched mem.orial of his fate.^No, my eyes see it 
 not — I have beheld, the fall of my house-^r-would that the 
 vultures of these crags . had rather torn them from their 
 sockets 1 " ■ 
 
 " Yet look again," said the Swiss ; " the cloth hangs not 
 loose upon a bough — I can see that it is raised on the' end of a 
 staff,, and is distindtly waved to and fro. Your son makes a 
 signal that he is safe." 
 
 "And if it be so," said the traveler, clasping; his hands 
 together, " blessed be the eyes that see it, and the tongue that 
 tells it ! If we find my son, and find hiih alive, this day shall 
 be a lucky one for thee tooi'' 
 
 " Nay," answered the lad, " I only ask that you will abide 
 Still, and act by counsel, and I will' hold myself quit for my 
 services. Only it is not creditable to an honest lad to have 
 
l8 ANN-E OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 people lose themselves by their own wilfulness ;'for the blattie, 
 after all, is sure to fall upon the guide, as if he could prevent 
 old Pontius from shaking the mist from his brovir, or banks of 
 earth from slipping down into the valley at a time, or young 
 harebrained gallants from walking Up&n precipices as narrow as 
 the edge of a knife, or ftiadmen, whose gray hairs might make 
 fhem wiser, from drawing daggers like bravoes in Lombardy." 
 
 Thus the guide ran on, and in that vein he might have long 
 continued, for Seignor Philipson heard him not. Each tbrdb 
 of his pulse, each thought of his heart, was directfed toward 
 the object which the lad referred to as a signal of his son's 
 safety. He became at length satisfied that the signal was 
 actually waved by a human hand ; and, as eager in the glow of 
 reviving hope, as he had of late been under the influence- of 
 desperate grief, he again prepared for the attempt of advancing 
 toward his son, and assisting him, if possible, in regaining a 
 place of safety. But the entreaties and reiterated assurances of 
 his guide induced him to pause. 
 
 " Are you fit," he said, " to go on the crag ? Can you repeat 
 your Credo and Ave without missing or misplacing a word ? 
 for without that, our old men' say your neck, had you a score of 
 them, would be in danger. — Is your eye clear and your feet 
 firm ? — I trow the one streams like a fountain, and the other 
 shakes like the aspen which overhangs it ! Rest here till 
 those arrive who are far more able to give your son help than 
 either you or I are. I judge by the fashion of his blowing, 
 that yonder is the horn of the Goodman of Geierstein, Arnold 
 Biederman. He hath seen your son's danger, and is even now 
 providing for his safety and ours. There are cases in which 
 the aid of one stranger, well acquainted with the country, is 
 worth that of three brothers, virho know not the crags." 
 
 " But if yonder horn really soundedi a signal," said the 
 traveler, " how chanced it that my son replied not ? " 
 
 " And if he did so, as is most likely he did," rejoined the 
 Grison, " how should we have heard him ? The bugle of Uri 
 itself sounded aihid these horrible dins of water and tempest 
 like the reed of a shepherd boy ; and how think you we should 
 hear the holloa of a man ? " 
 
 " Yet, methinks," said Seignor Philipson, " I do hear some- 
 thing amid this roar of elements which is like a human voice 
 —but it is not Arthur's." 
 
 " I wot well, no," answered the Grison ; " that is a woman's 
 voice. The maidens will converse with each other in that 
 manner, from cliffi to cliif, through storm and tempest, were 
 there a mile between." 
 
ANNE or GEmRSTErN. Ig 
 
 " Now, heaven be praised for this providential relief ! " said 
 Seignor Philipson ; " 1 trust we shall yet see this dreadful day 
 safely ended. I will hollOa in answer." 
 
 He attempted to do so, but; inexperienced in the art of 
 ■making himself' heard in such a country, he pitched his voice 
 in the same key with that of the roar of wave and wind ; so 
 that, even at twenty yards from the place where he was 
 speaking, it must have been totally indistinguishable from that 
 of the elemental war ai^ound them. The lad smiled at his 
 patron's ineffectual attempts, and then raised his voice himself 
 in a high, wild, and prolonged scream, which, while produced 
 ■with apparently much less effort than that of the the English- 
 man, was nevertheless a distinct sound, separated from others 
 by the key to which it was pitched, and was probably audible 
 to a very considerable distance. It was presently answered by 
 distant cries of the same nature, which gradually approached the 
 platform, bringing renovated hope to the anxious traveler. 
 
 If the distress of the father rendered his condition an object 
 of deep compassion, that of the son, at the same moment, was 
 sufficiently perilous. We have already stated, that Arthur 
 Philipson had commenced his precarious journey along the 
 precipice, with all the coolness, resolution, and unshaken 
 determination of mind, which was most essential to a task 
 where all must depend upon firmness of nerve. But the for- 
 midable accident which checked' his onward progress, was of a 
 character so dreadful, as made him feel all the bitterness of a 
 death, instant, horrible, and, as it seemed, inevitable. The 
 solid rook had trembled and rent beneath his footsteps, and 
 although, by an effort rather mechanical than voluntary, he 
 had withdrawn himself from the instant ruin attending its 
 descent, he felt as if the better part of him, his firmness of 
 mind and strength of body, had been rent away with the 
 descending rock,, as it fell thundering, with clouds of dust and 
 smoke, into the torrents and whirlpools of the vexed gulf 
 beneath. In fact, the seaman swept from the deck of a 
 wrecked vessel, drenched in the waves, and battered against 
 the rocks on the shore, does not differ more from the same 
 mariner, when, at the commencement of the gale, he stood 
 upon the deck of his favorite ship, proud of her strength and 
 his own dexterity, than Arthur when commencing his journey, 
 from the same Arthur, while clinging to the decayed trunk of 
 an old tree, from which, suspended between heaven and earth, 
 he saw the fall of the crag whichhe hadso nearly accompanied. 
 ■The effects of his terror, indeed, were physical aS well as moral, 
 for a tbt[»sa,iid colors played before his eyes ; he was attacked 
 
20 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN: 
 
 by a sick dizziness, and deprived at once of the obedience of 
 those limbs which had hitherto served him so admirably:^ his 
 arms and hands, as if no longer at his own commandii now 
 ;clung to the! branches of thp tree, with a cramp-like tenacity 
 over which he seemed to possess no power, and now trembled 
 in ai state of such complete nervous relaxation, as led him to 
 fear tliat they were becoming unable to support him longer in 
 his position. ' '■ 
 
 An incident, in itself trifling, added to the distress occasioned 
 by this alienation of his powers. All living things in the neigh- 
 borhood had, as might be supposed, been startled by the tre- 
 mendous fall to which hist progress had given occasion. Flights 
 of owls, bats; and otherbirds of darkness, compelled to betake 
 themselves to the air, had lost no time in returning into their 
 bowers of ivy, or the harbor afforded them by the rifts and 
 holes of the neighboring rocks. One of this ill-omened- flight 
 chanced to be a lammer-geier, or Alpine vulture, a bird larger 
 and more voracious than the eagle himself, and which Arthur 
 had not been accustomed to see, or at least to lookupon closely. 
 With the instinct, of most birds of prey, it is the custom of this 
 creature, when^ gorged with food, to assume some station of in- 
 accessible security, and there remain stationary and motionless 
 for days together, i till the -work of digestion has been accom- 
 plished, and activity returns with the pressure of appetite. > Dis- 
 turbed from such a state of repose,, one of these terrific birds 
 had risen from the ravine to which the species gives its name, 
 and having circled' unwillingly round, with a ghastly scream and 
 a flagging wing, it had sunk down upon the pinnacle of a crag, 
 not four yards from the tree in which Arthur held his precarious 
 station. Although still in some degree stupefied by torpor, it 
 seemed encouraged by the motionless state of the young man to 
 suppose him dead, or dying, and sat there and gazed at him, 
 without displaying any of that apprehension which the fiercest 
 animals usually entertained from the vicinity of man. 
 
 As Arthur, endeavoring to shake off the incapacitating effects 
 of his panic fear, Raised his eyes to look gradually and cautiously 
 around, he encountered those of the voracious and obscene bird, 
 whose head and neck denuded of feathers, her eyes surrounded 
 by an iris of an orange tawny color, and a position more 
 horizontal than erect, distinguished her. as much from the noble 
 carriage and graceful proportions of the. eagle, as those of the 
 lion place him in the ranks of creation above the gaunt, ravenous, 
 grisly, yet dastard wolf. 
 
 As if arrested by a charm, the eyes of young Philipson re- 
 mained bent on this ill-omened and ill-favored bird, without his 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTMIN. 21 
 
 having the power to remove them. The appreheiisions oi 
 dangers ideal, as well as real, weighed upon his weakened mind, 
 disabled as it was by the circumstances of his situation. The 
 near approach of a creature, not more loathsome to the human 
 race, tljan averse to come Within their reach, seemed as ominous 
 as it was unusual. Why did it gaze on hirn with such glaring 
 earnestness, projecting its disgusting form, as if presently to 
 alight upon: his person ? The foul bird, was she the demon of 
 the place to whichiher name referred ; and did she come to 
 exult, that an intruder on her haunts seemed involved amid their 
 perils, with little hope or chance of deliverance? Or was it 
 a native vulture of the rocks, whose sagacity foresaw that the 
 rash traveler was soon destined to become its victim ? Could 
 the creature, whose senses are said to be so acute,, argue from 
 circunjstances the stranger's approaching death, and wait, like 
 a raven or hooded crow by a dying sheep, for the earliest 
 opportunity to commence her ravenous banquet? Was he 
 doomed to feel its beak and talons before his heart's blood 
 should cease to beat? Had he already lost the dignity of 
 humanity, the awe which the being formed in the image of his 
 Maker inspires into all inferior creatures ? ' ■ 
 
 Apprehensions so painful served more than all that reason 
 could suggest, ' to renev/ ' in some degree the elasticity of the 
 young man's mind. By waving his handkerchief, using, how- 
 ever, the greatest precaution in his movements, he succeeded in 
 scaring the vulture from his vicinity. It rose from its resting- 
 place,- screaming harshly and dolefully, and sailed on its expanded 
 pinions to seek a place of more undisturbed : repose, wfiile the 
 adventurous traveler felt a sensible pleasure at being relieved! 
 of its disgusting presence. .. 
 
 With more collected ideas; the young man, who could obtain, 
 from his position, a partial view of the platform he had left, 
 endeavored to testify his safety to his father, by displaying, ias 
 high as he could, the banner by which ;he had chased off the 
 vulture. Like themj too, he heard, but at a less distance, the 
 burst of the great Swiss horn, which seemed- to announce some 
 near succor. He replied iby shouting and waving his flag, to 
 direct , assistance to the spot where it was so much required ; 
 and, recalling his faculties, which had almost deserted him; he 
 labored mentally to recover hope, and with hope the. means 
 and motive for exertion. 
 
 A faithful Catholic, he eagerly recommended himself in prayer 
 to Our Lady of Einsiedlen, and, making vows of propitiation, 
 besought her intercession, that he might be delivered from his 
 dreadful condition. "Or, gracious Lady!" he concluded, his* 
 
22 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 orison, " if it is my doorfl to lose my lifelike a hunted fox amidst 
 this savage wilderness of tottering crags, restore at least my nat- 
 ural sense of patience and courage, and let not one who has lived 
 like a man, though a sinful one, meet death like a timid hare J " 
 
 Having, devoutly recommended himself to that Protectress 
 of whom the legends of the Catholic Church form a picture so 
 amiable, Arthur, though every nerve still shook with his late 
 agitation, and his heart throbbed with a violence that threatened 
 to suffocate him, turned his thoughts! and observation' to the 
 means of effecting his escape. But, as be looked around him, 
 be becamemore and more sensible how much he was enervated 
 by the bodily injuries and the mental agony which he had sus- 
 tained during his late peril. He could not, by any effort of 
 which he was capable, fix his giddy and bewildered eyes on the 
 scene aroundhim;^-they seemed to reel till the landscape danced 
 along with them, and a motley chaos of thickets and tall, cliffs, 
 which interposed between him and the ruinous Castle of Geier- 
 stein, mixed and whirled round in such confusion, that nothing, 
 save the consciousness that such an idea was the suggestion of 
 partial insanity, prevented him from throwing himself from the 
 tree, a's if to join the wild dance to which his disturbed brain 
 had given motion. 
 
 " Heaven be my' protection ! " said the unfortunate young 
 man, closing his eyes,, in hopes, by abstracting himself from the 
 terrors of his situation, to compose his too. active imagination ; 
 " my senses are abandoning me ! '' 
 
 He became still riiore convinced that this was the case, 
 when a female voice, in a high-pitched but eminently musical 
 accent, was heard at no great distance, as if calling to him. He 
 opened his eyes once more, raised his headj and looked toward 
 the .place from whence the sounds seemed to come^ though, far 
 from being certain that they existed saving in ■ his own dis- 
 ordered imagination. The vision which appeared had almost 
 confirmed him in the opinion that his mind was unsettled, and 
 his senses in no state to serve him accurately. 
 
 Upon the very summit of a pyramidical rock that rose out 
 of the depth of the valley, was seen a female figure, so obscured 
 by mistj that only the outline could be traced. The form, re- 
 flected against the sky, appeared rathier the undefined linea- 
 ments of a spirit than of a mortal maiden; for her person 
 seemed as light, and scarcely more opaque, than the thin cloud 
 that surrounded her pedestal. Arthur's first belief was, that 
 the Virgin had heard his vows, and had descended 'in person 
 to his rescue ; and he was about to recite his Ave Maria, when 
 the voice again called to .him with the singular shrill modu- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 23 
 
 lation of the mountain halloo, by which the native^ of the Alps 
 can hold conference with each other from one mountain range 
 to another, across ravines of great depth and width. 
 
 While he debated how to address this unexpected appari- 
 tion, it disappeared froin the point which it at first occupied, 
 and presently after became again visible, perched on the cliff 
 out of which projected the tree in which Arthur had taken 
 refuge. Her personal appearance, as well as her dress, made 
 it then apparent that she was a maiden of those mountains, fa* 
 miliar with their dangerous paths. : He saw that a beautiful 
 young woman stood before him, who regarded him with a mix- 
 ture of pity and wonder. 
 
 " Stranger," she at length said, " who are you, and whence 
 come you "i" s - 
 
 " I am a stranger, maiden,, as you justly term me," answered 
 the young man, raising himself as well as he could. " I left 
 Lucerne this morning, with my father and a guide. I parted 
 with them not three furlongs from hence. ' May it please you, 
 gentle maiden, tb warn them of my saifety, for I know rny 
 father will be in despair upon my account? " 
 
 "Willingly," said the maiden ; " but I think my uncle, or 
 some one of my kinsmen, must have already ^und them, and 
 will prove faithful guides. Gan I not >aid you? — are you 
 wounded? — are you hurt?. We were alarmed by the fall of a 
 rock — ay, and yonder it lies, a mass of no ordinary size." 
 
 : As the Swiss maiden spoke thus, .she approached so close 
 to the verge of the precipice, and looked with such indifference 
 into the gulf, that the sympathy which connects the actor and 
 spectator upon such occasions brought back the sickness and 
 vertigo from which Arthur had just recovered, and he sunk 
 back into his former more recumbtent posture with something 
 like a faint groan. 
 
 " You are then ill ? " said the maiden, who observed him 
 turn pale — " Where and what is the harm you have received ? " 
 
 " None, gentle maiden, saving some bruises of little import ; 
 but my head turns, and my heart grows sick, when I see you so 
 near the verge of the cliff." 
 
 " Is that all ? " replied the Swiss maiden. — " Know, stranger, 
 that I do not stand on my uncle's hearth with more security 
 than I have stood upon precipices, compared to which this is a 
 child's leap. You; too, ^stranger, if, as I judge from the traces, 
 you have come along the edge of the precipice which the earth- 
 slide hath laid bare, ought to be far beyond such weakness, 
 since surely you must be well entitled to call yourself a crags- 
 roan," I 
 
24 
 
 ANNE OF<iEUERSTEIN. 
 
 "I might have called myself so half-an-hour since, an- 
 swered Arthur ; "but I think I shall hardly venture to assume 
 the name in future." , - 
 
 " Be not downcast," said his kind adviser, " for a passing 
 qualm, which, will at rimes cloud the spirit and dazzle the eye- 
 sight of. the bravest and most experienced. Raiise yourself 
 upon the trunk of the^ tree, and advance closer to the rock out 
 of ^which it grows. ■ Observe the placei well. It is easy, for you, - 
 when you have attained the lower part of. the projecting stetn, 
 to gain by one bold step the solid rock upon which I stand ; 
 after which there is no danger or difficulty worthy of mention 
 to a young man, whose limbs are whole, and whose courage is 
 active.". • . . ' -'A ■■. •' " ;, 
 
 "My limbs are indeed sound," replied the youtK; "but! 
 am ashamed to think how inuch my cbiirage is brokenjf Yet I 
 will. not disgrace the interest you have talcen in an unhappy 
 wanderer, by listening longer to the dastardly suggestions of a 
 feeling, which till to-day has been a stranger to my bosom." 
 
 The maiden looked- on hirh anxiously, and with much in- 
 terest, as, raising himself cautiously, and moving along the 
 trunk iof the tree, Which lay nearly horizontal from the rbck, 
 and! seemed to Ijpndi as he changed his posture, the; youth at 
 length' stood upright, within what, on level ground, had been 
 but an extended stride to the cliff.'on which the Swiss maiden 
 stood. But instead of being a step to be taken on the level 
 and firm earth, it was one which must cross a dark abyss, at 
 theibottom of which a torrent surged and boiled: with incredible 
 fury. Arthur's knees knocked against each other, his feet 
 became of lead, and seemed no longer at his command ; and 
 he -experienced, ina stronger' degree- than ever, that unnerving 
 influence, which those who have been overwhelmed by it in a 
 situation of like peril never can forget, and which others, hap- 
 pily strangers to its power, may have difficulty even in com- 
 prehending. ' , . ■ ■ ' 
 
 The young Vvoman discerned his emotion, and foresaw its prob- 
 able consequences. As the only mode in her power to restore 
 his confidence, she sprung lightly from the rock to the stem of 
 the tree,' on which she alighted' with the ease anti security of a 
 bird, and in the same instant back to 'the cliff ; and extending 
 her hand to the stranger, " My arm," she said, "is but a slight 
 balustrade; yet do but step forward. with resolution, and you 
 will find it as secure as the battlemetit of Berne." But shame 
 now overcame terror scmurih, that Arthur, declining assistance' 
 which he could not have accepted without feeling lowered in- 
 his own eyes, took heart of grace, and successfully achieved 
 
ANNE OF QEIERSTEIN, 
 
 2S 
 
 the formidable step which placed him upon the same cliff with 
 his kind assistant. 
 
 To sei^e, her hand and raise it to his lips, in affectionate 
 token of gratitude and respect, was .naturally the youth's first 
 aqtipriij nor was it possible for the maiden to have prevented 
 him from doing so, without assuming a degree of prudery 
 for.^igij to her character, and occasioning a ceremonious debate 
 upon a matter of no great 'consequence, where the sceneof 
 action was a rock; scarce five feet long by three in width, and 
 which looked dpvyn upon a torrent roaring some hundred feet 
 below. 
 
 CHAPTER THIRD. 
 
 Cursed be the' gold and silver, which persuade 
 Weak man to follow far fatiguing trade. 
 The lily, peace, outshines the silver store, 
 And life is dearer, than the golden ore ; 
 Yet money tempts us o'ei- the desert browri, 
 To every distant mart and wealthy town.i 
 
 Hassan,, OR the Camei^driver, 
 
 Arthur Philipson, and .Anne of Geierstein, , tljus placed 
 together in a situation which brought them into, the closest 
 possible contiguity, felt a slight degree of embarrassment,; the 
 young man, doubtless, from the fear of being; judged a, poltroon 
 in the eyes of the maiden by whom he h^d been rescued, and 
 the young woman, perhaps, in consequence of- the exertion she 
 had made, or a sense of being placed suddenly in a situation 
 of such proximity to. the youth whose,, life ishe had probably 
 saved, , , , , . 
 
 "And now, maiden," said Arthur, "I must repair, to my 
 father., The life which I owe to your assistance can scarce; be 
 called welcome to me, unless I am permitted to hasten to his 
 rescue." . > 
 
 "He was here ■ interrupted by another bugle-blq^t, which 
 seemed to come from the quarter in which the elder Philipson 
 and his guide had.be.en left ,by their youiig and daring; com- 
 panion. Arthur looked in that, direction ; but the platform, 
 which he had seen but imperfectly from the tree, when he w^s 
 perched in that place, of refuge, was invisible from the rock pn 
 which they now stood. , : 
 
26 ^ /\W£ Ofi GMljSRSTEm. 
 
 "Tt would cost me nothing to .step back on yonder root," 
 said the young woman, "to spy from thence whether I could 
 see aught of your friends. But I am convinced they are under 
 safer guidance than either yours or mine ; for the horn an- 
 nounces that my uncle, or some of my young ' kinsmen, have 
 reached them. 'They are by this time on their way to the 
 Geierstein, to which, with your permission, I will become your 
 guide.; for you may be assured that my uncle Arnold will not 
 allow you to pass further to-day ; and we 'shall but lose tirae^ 
 by endeavoring to find your friends, who, situated where you 
 say you left them, will reach the Geierstein sooner than we 
 shall. Follow me, then, or I must suppose you weary of my 
 guidance." 
 
 " Sooner suppose me weary of the life which your guidance 
 has in all probability saved," replied Arthur, and prepared to 
 attend her ; at the same time taking a view of her dress and 
 person, which confirmed, the satisfaction he had in following 
 such a conductor, and which we shall' take the liberty to detail 
 somewhat more minutely than he could do at that time. 
 
 An upper vest,, neither so close as to display the person, a 
 habit forbidden by the sumptuary laws of the canton, nor so 
 loose as to be E|.n encumbrance in walking or climbing, covered 
 a close tunic of a different color, and came down beneath the 
 middle of the leg, but suffered the ankle, in all its fine propor- 
 tions, to be completely visible. The foot was defended by a 
 sandal, the point of which ^as turned upward, and the crossings 
 and knots of the strings, which secured it on the front of the 
 leg, were garnished with silver rings. The upper vest was 
 gathered round the middle by a sash of party-colored silk, 
 ornamented with twisted threads of gold ; while the tunic, open 
 at the throat, permitted the shape and exquisite whiteness of a 
 welWormed neck to be visible at the collar, and for an inch or 
 two beneath. The small portion of the throat' and bosom thus 
 exposed, was even more brilliantly fair than was promised by the 
 countenance, which last bore some marks of having been freely 
 exposed to the sun and air, by no means in a degree to diminish 
 its beauty, but just so far as to show that the maiden possessed 
 the health which is purchased by habits of rural exercise. Her 
 long fair«hair fell down in a profusion of curls, on each side of 
 a face, whose blue eyes, lovely features, and dignified simplic- 
 ity of expression, implied at once a character of gentleness, 
 and the self-relying resolution of a mind too virtuous to suspect 
 evil, and too noble to fear it. Above these locks, beauty's 
 natural and most beseeming ornament — or rather, I should say, 
 amongst them — was placed the small bonnet, which, from its 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEtN. 
 
 27 
 
 size, little answered the purpose of protecting the head, but 
 served to exercise the ingenuity of the fair wearer, who had not 
 failed, according to the prevailing custom of the mountain 
 maidens, to decorate the tiny cap with a heron's feather, and 
 the then unusijal luxury of a small and thin chain of gold, long 
 enough to encircle the Cap, four or five timesj and having the 
 ends secured under a broad medal of the same C9stly metal. 
 
 I have only to add, that the stature of the young pe'i-son was 
 something above the common size, and that the whole contour 
 of her form, without being in the sHghtest degi"ee masculirid, 
 resembled that of Minerva, rather than the proud beauties of 
 Juno, or the yielding graces of Venus. The noble brow, the 
 well-formed and active limbs, the firm and yet light step^above 
 all, the total absence of anything resembling the consciousness 
 of personal beauty, and the open and candid look,'which seemed 
 desirous of knowing nothing that was hidden, and conscious 
 that she hersfelf had nothing to hide, were traits not unworthy 
 of the goddess of wisdom and of chastity. 
 
 The road which the young Englishman pursued, under the 
 guidance of this beautiful young' woman, was dif&Cult and un- 
 equal, but could not be termed dangerous, at least in compari- 
 son to those precipices over which Arthur had recently passed. 
 It was, in fact, a continuation of the path which the slip or slide 
 6f earth, so often mentioned, had interrupted; and although it 
 had sustained damage in several places atthe period of the same 
 earthquake, yet there were marks of these having been already 
 repaired in such a rude. manner as made the way suffiQient for 
 the necessary intercdurse of a people so indifferent as the Swiss, 
 to smooth or level paths. The maiden also gave Arthur to 
 understand, that the present road took a circuit for the purpose 
 of gaining that on which he was lately traveling, and that if he 
 and his companions had turned off at the place where this new 
 track united with the old pathway, they would have escaiped the 
 danger which had attended their keeping the road by the verge 
 of the precipice. 
 
 The path which they now pursued was rather .averted from 
 the torrent, though still within hearing of its sullen thunders, 
 which seemed to increase as they ascended parallel to its course, 
 till suddenly, the road, turning short, and directing itself straight 
 upon the old castle, brought them within sight of one of the 
 most splendid and awful scenes of that mountainous region. 
 
 The ancient tower of Geierstein, though neither extensive, 
 , nor distinguished by architectural ornament, possessed^ an air 
 of terrible dignity by its position on the vfery verge of the op- 
 posite bank of the torrent, which, just at the angle of the' rock 
 
28 ANNE OF GEIERSTRm. 
 
 on which the ruins are situated, falls sheer over, a cascade of 
 nearly a hundred feet in height, and theti rushes down the defile,' 
 through a trough of living rock, which perhaps its waves have 
 been deepening'since timeitself had a commencement. Facing, 
 and at the same time looking, down upon this eternal roarrof 
 "waters, stood the old tower, built so close to the verge of the 
 precipice, that the buttresses with which the architect had 
 strengthened the foundation, seemed a part of the solid rock 
 itself, and a continuation of its perpendicular ascent. As usual 
 throughout Europe in the feudal times, the principal part of the 
 building was a massive square pile, th?, decayed summit of 
 which, was rendered picturesque by flanking turrets of different 
 sizes and heights, some round, some angular, some ruinous, some 
 tolerably entire, yarying the outline of the building as seen 
 against the stormy sky. 
 
 A projecting sallyport, descending by a flight of steps from 
 the tower, had in former times given access to a bridge connect- 
 ing the castle with that side of the stream, on which Arthur 
 Philipson and his fair guide now stood. A single arch, or rather 
 one rib of an arch, cohsisfing of single stones, stillremainedi„and 
 ■spanned the river immediately in front of the waterfall. In 
 former times this arch hacj served for the support of a wooden 
 drawbridge, of more convenient breadth, and of such length and 
 weight as must have been rather unmanageable, had it not begp 
 lowered on some solid resting-place. It is true the device was 
 attended with this inconvenience, that even when the drawbridge 
 was up, there remained a possibility of approaching the castlfe 
 gate by means of this narrow rib of stone. But as it wa,s not 
 above eighteen inches broad, and could only admit the daring 
 foe who should traverse it, tO' a doorway regularly defended by 
 gate and portcullis, and having flanking turret^ arid projections, 
 from which stones, darts, melted lead, and scalding water, might 
 pe poured down on the soldiery who should venture .to approach 
 Geierstein by, this precarious access, the possibility qf such an 
 attempt was not considered as diminishing the security of the 
 garrison. .Ii , ■ 
 
 In the time we, treat of, the castle being entirely ruined and 
 dismantled,, and the door, drawbridge, and portcullis gone, the 
 dilapidated gateway, and. the slender arch which .connected the 
 twp sides of the stream, were used as a means of communic3.- 
 tion between the banks of the river, by the inhabitants of tjie 
 neighborhood, whpm habit had familiarized with the dangerous 
 nature of the passage. 
 
 Arthur Philipson had, in the meantime, like a good bow 
 when new strmjg, regained the elasticity of feeling snjfi .qfea,i- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 29 
 
 acter which was natural to him. It was not, indeed, with per- 
 fect composure that he followed his guide, as she tripped lightly 
 over the narrow arch,!Composed of rugged stones, and rendered 
 wet and slippery with the perpetual drizzle of-the mist issuing 
 from the neighboring cascade. Nor was it without apprehen- 
 sion that he found himself performing this perilous feat in the 
 neighborhood of the waterfall itself, whose deafening roar he 
 could not exclude from his ears, though he took care not to 
 turn his head toward' its terrors, lest his ^brain should again be 
 dizzied by the tumult of the waters as they shot forward from 
 the precipice above, and plunged themselves: into what seemed 
 the fathomless gtilf below. But notwithstanding these feelings 
 of agitation, the natural shame to show cowardice where a 
 beautiful young female exhibited so much indifference, and the 
 desire to regain his character in the eyes of his guide, ■pre- 
 vented Arthur from again giving way to the appalling feelings 
 by which, he had been overwhelmed,, a short time before. 
 Stepping ' firmly on, yet cautiously supportitig himself with his 
 piked staff, he traced the light Ifootsteps of his guide along the 
 bridge of dread, and followed her through the ruined sallyport, 
 to which they ascended by stairs which were equally dilapidated. 
 
 The' gateway admitted them into a mass of ruins, formerly a 
 sort of courtyard to the donjon, which rose in gloomy dignity 
 above the wreck of what had been works destined for external 
 defence, or buildings for internal accommodation. They quickly 
 passed through these ruins, over which vegetation had thrown 
 a wild mantle of ivy, and other creeping shrubs, and issued 
 from them through the main gate of the castle into one of those 
 spots in which Nature often embosoms* her sweetest charms, in 
 the midst of districts chiefly characterized by waste and desola- 
 tion. 
 
 The Castle, in this aspect also, rose considerably above the 
 neighboring ground, but the elevation of the site, which toward 
 the torrent was an abrupt rock, was on this side a steep 
 eminence, which had been scarped like a modern glacis, to 
 render the building more secure, it was now covered with 
 young trees and bushes,' out of which the tower itself seemed to 
 rise in ruined dignity. Beyond this. hanging thicket the view 
 was of a very different character. A piece -of ground, amount- 
 ing to more than a hundred acres, seemed scooped out of the 
 rocks and mountains, which retaining the same savage char- 
 acter with the tract in which the travelers had been that morn- 
 ing bewildfered, enclosed, and as it were- defended, a limited 
 space of a mild and fertile character. The surface of this little 
 
3° 
 
 ANNE OF CEIERSTEIN. 
 
 domain waS considerably varied, but its general aspect was a 
 gentle slope to the south-west. 
 
 The principal object which it presented was a large house 
 composed of huge logs, without any pretence to form or sym- 
 metry, but indicating, by the smoke which arose from it, as well 
 as the extent of the neighboring oflfices, and the improved and- 
 cultivated character of the fields around, that it was the abode, 
 not of splendor certainly, but of ease and competence. An 
 orchard of thriving fruit-trees extended to the southward of the 
 dwelling. . Groves of walnut and chestnut grew in stately array,: 
 and even a vineyard, of three or four acres, showed that the 
 cultivation of the ■ grape was understood and practiced. It is 
 now universal in Switzerland, but was, in those early days, 
 almost exclusively confined to a few more fortunate proprietors, 
 who had the rare advantage of uniting intelligence with opulent, 
 or at least easy circumstances. 
 
 There were fair ranges of pasture fields, into which the fine 
 race of cattle which constitute the pride and wealth of the 
 Swiss mountaineers had been brought down from the more 
 Alpine grazings where they had fed during the summer, to be 
 near shelter and protection when the autumnal storms might; 
 be expected. On some selected spots, the lambs of the^ last 
 season fed in plenty and security, and in others, huge trees, 
 the natural growth of the soil, were suffered to remain, from 
 motives of convenience probably, that they might be at hand' 
 when timber was required for domestic use, but giving,' ; 
 ait the same time, a woodland character to a scene otheirwise 
 agricultural. Through this mountain-paradise the course of 
 a small brook might be traced, now showing itself to the sun, 
 which had by this time dispelled: the fogs, now intimating its 
 course, by its gently sloping banks, clothed in some places 
 with lofty trees, or "conoealingdtself under thickets of Jiawthorn 
 and nut bushes. This stream, by a devious and geatle course, 
 which seemed to indicate a reluctance to leave this quiet 
 region, found its way at length out of the sequestered domain, 
 and, like a youth hurrying from the gay and tranquil sports of 
 boyhood, into the wild career of active life, finally united itself 
 with the boisterous torrent, which, breaking down tumultuously 
 from the mountains, shook the ancient Tower of Geierstein, 
 as it rolled down the adjacent rock, and then rushed howling' 
 through the defile in which .our youthful traveler had well-: 
 nigh. lost his life. 
 
 Eager as the younger Philipson was to rejoin his father, 
 he could not help pausing for a moment to wonder how so much 
 beauty should be found amid such scenes of horror, and to 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 3r 
 
 look back on the Tower of Geierstein, ^nd on the huge clifi 
 from which it derived its name, as if to ascertain, by the sight 
 of these distirvguished landmarks, that he was actually in the 
 neighborhood of the savage wild where he had encountered so 
 much danger and terror. Yet so narrow were the limits of 
 this cultivated farm, that it hardly required such a retrospect 
 to satisfy the spectator that the spot susceptible of human in- 
 dustry, and on which it seemed that a considerable degree of 
 labor had been bestov^ed, bore a, very small proportion to 
 the wilderness in which it was situated. It was on all sides 
 surrounded by lofty hills, in some places rising into walls of 
 rook, in others clothed with dark and savage forests of the pine 
 and the larch, of primeval antiquity. Above these, from the emi- 
 nence on which the tower was situated, could be seen the 
 almost rosy hue in which an immense glacier threw back the 
 sun ; and, still higher over the frozen surface of that icy sea, 
 arose, in silent dignity, the pale peaks of those countless moun- 
 tains, on which the snow eternally rests. 
 
 What we have taken some time to describe, occupied young 
 Philipson only for one or two hurried minutes; for on a slop- 
 ing lawn, which was in front of the farm-house, as the mansion 
 might be properly styled, he saw five or six persons, the fore- 
 most of whom, from his gait, his dress, and the form of his cap, 
 he could easily distinguish as the parent whom he hardly ex- 
 pected at one time to have again beheld. 
 
 He followed, therefore, his conductress with a glad Step, 
 as she led the way down the steep ascent on which the ruined 
 tower was situated. They approached the group whom Arthur 
 had noticed, the foremost of which was his father, who hastily 
 came forward to meet him, in company with another person, df 
 advanced age, and stature well nigh gigantic, and who, from his 
 simple yet majestic bearing, seemed the worthy countryman 
 of William Tell, Stauffacher, Winkelried, and other Swiss 
 worthies, whose stout hearts and hardy arms had, in the pre- 
 ceding age, vindicated against countless hosts their personal 
 liberty, and the independence of their country. 
 
 With a natural courtesy, as if to spare the father and son 
 many witnesses to a meeting which must be attended with 
 emotion the Landamman himself, in walking forward with 
 the elder Philipson, signed to those by whom he was attended, 
 all of whom seemed young men, to remain behind: — they re- 
 mained a,ccordingly, examining, as it seemed, the guide An- 
 tonio, upon the adventures of the strangers. • Anne, the coa- 
 ductress of Arthur Philipson, had but time to say to him, 
 " Yonder old man is my uncle, Arnold Biederman, and these 
 
32 Al^NE OF GElERSrEIJV. 
 
 young men are my kinsmen," when the former, with the elder 
 traveler, was close before them. The Landararaan, with the 
 same propriety of feeling which he had before displayed, signed 
 to his niece to move a little aside ; yet while requiring from 
 iier an account of her morning's expedition, he watched the in- 
 terview of the father and son with as much curiosity as his nat- 
 ural sense of complaisance permitted him to testify. It was 
 of a character different from what he had expected. 
 
 We have already described the elder Philipson as a father 
 devotedly attached to his son, ready to rush on death when he 
 had expected to lose him, and equally overjoyed at heart, 
 doubtless, to see him again restored to his affections. It might 
 have been therefore expected that the father and son would 
 have rushed into each other's arms, and such probably was the 
 scene which Arnold Biederman expected to have witnessed. 
 ' But the EnglisTi traveler, in common with many of his 
 countrymen, covered keen and quick feelings with much ap- 
 pearance of coldness and reserve, and thought it a weakness to 
 give unlimited sway even to the influence of the most amiable 
 and most natural emotions. Eminently ha-ndsome in youth, 
 his countenance, still fine in his more advanced years, had an 
 expression which intimated an unwillingness either to yield to 
 .passion or encourage confidence. His pace, when he first be- 
 held his souj had been quickened, by the natural wish to meet 
 him ; but he slackened it as they drew near to each other, and 
 when they met, said in a tone rather of censure and admonition 
 than affection, — "Arthur, may the Saints forgive the pain thou 
 hast this day given me." 
 
 "Amen," said the youth. "I must need pardon since I 
 have given you pain. Believe, however, that I acted for the 
 best." 
 
 " It is well, Arthur, that in acting for the best, according to 
 your forward will, you have not encountered the worst." 
 
 " That I have not," answered the son, with the same de- 
 voted and patient submission, " is owing to this maiden," 
 pointing to Anne, who stood at a few paces' distance, desirous 
 perhaps of avoiding to witness the reproof of the father, which 
 might seem to her rather ill-timed and unreasonable. 
 
 " To the maiden my thanks shall be rendered," said his 
 father, " when I can study how to pay them in an adequate 
 manner; but is it well or comely, think you, that you should 
 receive from a maiden the succor which it is your duty as a man 
 to extend to the weaker sex ? " 
 
 Arthur held down his head and blushed deeply, while 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 33 
 
 Arnold Biederman, sympathizing with his feelings, stepped for- 
 ward and mingled in the conversation. 
 
 " Never be abashed,' my young guest, that you have been 
 indebted for aught of counsel or assistance to a maiden of 
 Unterwalden. Know that the freedom of their country owes 
 no less to the firmness and wisdom of her daughters than to 
 that of her sons. — And you, my elder guest, who have, I judge, 
 seen many years, and various lands, must have often known 
 examples how the strong are saved by the help of the weak, 
 the proud by the aid of the humble." 
 
 " I have at least learned," said the Englishman, "to debate 
 no point unnecessarily with the host who has kindly harbored 
 me ; " and after one glance at his son, which seemed to kindle 
 with the fondest affection, he resumed, as the party turned back 
 toward the house, a conversation which he had been maintain- 
 ing with his new acquaintance before Arthur and the maiden 
 had joined them. 
 
 Arthur had in. the meantime an opportunity of observing 
 the figure and features of their Swiss landlord, which, I have 
 already hinted, exhibited a primeval simplicity mixed with a 
 certain rude dignity, arising out of its masculine and unaffected 
 character. 
 
 The dress did not greatly differ in form from the habit of 
 the female which we have described. It consisted of an upper 
 frock, shaped like the modern shirt, and only open at the 
 bosom, worn above a tunic or under doublet. But the man's 
 vest was considerably shorter in the skirts, which did'^not come 
 lower down than the kilt of the Scottish Highlander ; a species 
 of boots or buskins rose above the knee, and the person was 
 thus entirely clothed. A bonnet made of the fur of the marten, 
 and garnished with a silver medal, was the only part of the 
 dress which displayed anything like ornament ; the broad belt 
 which gathered the garment together was of buff leather, 
 secured by a large brass buckle. - 
 
 But the figure of him who wore this homely attire, which 
 seemed almost wholly composed of the fleeces of the mountain 
 sheep, and the spoils of animals of the chase, would have comr 
 manded respect wherever, the wearer had presented himself, 
 especially in those warlike days, when men were judged of ac- 
 cording to the promising or unpromising qualities of their thews 
 and sinews. To those who looked at Arnold Biederman in this 
 point of view, he displayed the size and form, the broad 
 shoulders, and prominent muscles, of a Hercules. But to such 
 as looked rather at his countenance, the steady sagacious 
 features, open front, large blue eyes, and deliberate resolution 
 
34 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 which it expressed, more resembled the character of the fabled 
 King of Gods and Men. He was attended by several sons and 
 relatives, young men, among whom he walked, receiving, as his 
 undeniable due, respect and obedience, similar to that which a 
 .herd of deer are observed to render to the monarch stag. 
 
 While Arnold Biederman walked and spoke with the elder 
 stranger, the young men seemed closely to scrutinize Arthur, 
 and occasionally interrogated in whispers their relation Anne, 
 receiving from her brief and impatient answers, which rather 
 excited than appeased the vein of merriment in which the 
 mountaineers indulged, very much, as it seemed to the young 
 Englishman, at the expense of their guest. To feel himself 
 exposed to derision was not softened by the reflection, that in 
 such a society it would probably be attached to all who could 
 not tread on the edge of a precipice with a step as firm and 
 undismayed as if they walked the street of a city. However 
 unreasonable ridicule may be, it is always unpleasing to be 
 subjected to it, but more particularly is it distressing to a 
 young man, where beauty is a listener. It was some consola- 
 tion to Arthur that he thought the maiden certainly did not 
 enjoy the jest, and seemed by word and look to reprove the 
 rudeness of her companions ; but this he feared was only from 
 a sense of humanity. 
 
 " She, too, must despise me," he thought, " though civility, 
 unknown to these ill-taught boors, has enabled her to conceal 
 contempt under the guise of pity. She can but judge of me 
 from that which she has seen — if she could know me better," 
 (such was his proud thought), " she might perhaps rank me 
 more highly." 
 
 As the travelers entered the habitation of Arnold Bieder- 
 man they found preparations made in a large apartment, 
 which served the purpose of general accommodation, for a 
 homely but plentiful meal. A glance round the walls showed 
 the implements of agriculture and the chase ; but the eyes of 
 the elder Philipson rested upon a leathern corselet, a long heavy 
 halberd, and a two-handed sword, which were displayed as 
 a sort of trophy. Near these, but covered with dust, unfurbished 
 and neglected, hung a helmet, with a visor, feuch ,as was used 
 by knights and men-at-arms. The golden garland, or coronal 
 twisted around it, though sorely tarnished, indicated noble 
 birth and rank ; and the crest, which was a vulture of the 
 species which gave name to the old castle and its adjacent cliff 
 suggested various conjectures to the English guest, who, ac- 
 quainted in a great measure with the history of the Swiss 
 revolution, made little doubt that in this relic he saw some 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 35 
 
 trophy of the ancient warfare between the: inhabitants of these 
 mountains and the feudal lord to whom they had of yore ap- 
 pertained. 
 
 A summons to the hospitable board disturbed the train of 
 the English merchant's reflections, and a large company, com- 
 prising the whole inhabitants of every description that lived 
 under Biederman's roof, sat down to a plentiful repast of goat's 
 flesh, fish, preparations of milk of various kinds, cheese, and, 
 for the upper mess, the venison of a young chamois. The 
 Landamman himself did the honors of the table with great 
 kindness and simplicity, and urged the strangers to. show, by 
 their appetite, that they thought themselves as welcome as he 
 desired to make them. During the repast, he carried on a 
 conversation v/ith his elder guest, while the younger people at 
 table, as well as the menials, ate in modesty and silence. Eve 
 the dinner was finished, a figure crossed on the outside of the 
 large window which lighted the eating-hall, the sight of which 
 seemed to occasion a lively sensation among such as observed it. 
 
 " Who passed ? " said old Biederman to those seated oppo- 
 site to the window. 
 
 " It is our cousin, Rudolph of Donnerhugel," answered one 
 of Arnold's sons eagerly. 
 
 The annunciation seemed to give great pleasure to the 
 younger part of the company, especially the sons of the Lan- 
 damman ; while the head of the family only said with a grave, 
 calm voice, — " Your kinsman is welcome — tell hirn so, and let 
 him come hither." 
 
 Two or three arose for this purpose, as if there had been a 
 contention among them who should do the h(^ors of the house 
 to the new guest. He entered presently ; a young man, un- 
 usually tall, well-proportioned, and active, with a quantity of 
 dark-brown locks curling around his face, together with mus- 
 taches of the same, or rather a still darker hue. His cap was 
 small, considering the quantity of his thickly clustering hair, 
 and rather might be said to hang upon one side of his head 
 than to cover i|t. His clothes were of the same form and 
 general fashion as those of Arnold, but made of much finer 
 cloth, the manufacture of the German loom, and ornamented 
 in a rich and fanciful manner. One sleeve of his vest was dark 
 green, curiously laced and embroidered with devices in silver, 
 while the rest of the garment was scarlet. His sash was twisted 
 and netted with gold, and be.sides answering the purpose of a 
 belt, by securing the upper garment round his waist, sustained 
 a silver-hilted poniard. His finery was completed by boots, 
 the tips of which were so long as to turn upward with a peak, 
 
36 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 after a prevailing fashion in tlie Middle Ages. A golden chain 
 hung round his neck, and sustained a large medallion of the 
 same metal. 
 
 This young.gallant was instantly surrounded by the race of 
 Biederman, among whom he appeared to be considered as the 
 model upon which the Swiss youth ought to build themselves, 
 and whose gait, opinions, dress, and manne;rs, all ought to 
 follow who would keep pace with the fashion of the day, in 
 which he reigned an acknowledged and unrivaled example. 
 
 By two persons in the company, however, it seemed to 
 Arthur Philipson that this young man was received with less 
 distinguished marks of regard than those with which he was 
 hailed by the general voice of the youths present. Arnold 
 Biederman himself was at least no way warm in welcoming the 
 young Bernese, for such was Rudolph's country. The young 
 man drew from his bosom a sealed packet, which he delivered 
 to the Landamman with demonstrations of great respect, and 
 seemed to expect that Arnold, when he had broken the seal 
 and perused the contents, would say something to him on the 
 subject. But the patriarch only bade him be seated, and par- 
 take of their meal, and Rudolph found a place accordingly next 
 to Anne of Geierstein, which was yielded to him by one of the 
 sons of Arnold with ready courtesy. 
 
 It seemed ajso to the observant young Englishman, that the 
 new-comer was received with marked coldness by the maiden, 
 to whom he appeared eager and solicitous to pay his compli- 
 ments, by whose side he had contrived to seat himself at the 
 well furnished board, and to whom he seemed more anxious to 
 recommend himsglf, than to partake of the food which it offer- 
 ed. He observed the gallant whisper her, and look toward 
 him. Anne gave a very brief reply, but one of the young Bie- 
 dermans, who sat on his other hand, was probably more com- 
 municative, as the youths both laughed, and the maiden again 
 seemed disconcerted, and blushed with displeasure. 
 
 " Had i either of these sons of the mountain," thought 
 young Philipson, " upon six yards of level greensward, if there 
 be so much flat ground in this country, methinks I were more 
 likely to spoil their mirth than to furnish food for it. It is as 
 marvelous to see such conceited boors under the same riof 
 with so courteous and amiable a damsel, as it would be to see 
 one of their shaggy bears dance a rigadoon with a maiden like 
 the daughter of our host. Well, I need not concern myself 
 more than I can help about her beauty or their breeding, since 
 morning will separate me from them forever." 
 
 As these reflections passed through the young guest's mind. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 37 
 
 the father of the family called for a cup of wine, and having 
 required the two strangers to pledge him in a maple cup of con- 
 siderable size, he sent a similar goblet to Rudolph Donner- 
 hugel. "Yet you," he said, " kinsman, are used to more highly- 
 flavored wine than the half-ripened grapes of Geierstein can 
 supply. — Would you think it, sir merchant," he continued, ad- 
 dressing Philipson, " there are burghers of Berne who send for 
 wine, for their own drinking, both to France and Germany ? " 
 
 " My kinsman disapproves of that," replied Rudolph ; " yet 
 every place is not blessed with vineyards like Geierstein, which 
 produces all that heart and eye can desire." This was said with 
 a glance at his fair companion, who did not appear to take the 
 compliment, while the envoy of Berne proceeded : — " But our 
 wealthier burghers, having some superfluous crowns, think it no 
 extravagance to barter them for a goblet of better wine than our 
 own mountains can produce. But we willbe more frugal when 
 we have at our disposal tuns of the wine of Burgundy, for the 
 mere trouble of transporting them." 
 
 " How mean you by that, cousin Rudolph ? " said Arnold 
 . Biederman. , •. 
 
 " Methinks, respected kinsman," answered the Bernese, 
 " your letters must have told you that our Diet is likely to, de- 
 clare war against Burgundy ? " 
 
 " Ah ! and you know, then, the contents of my letters ? " 
 said Arnold ; " another mark how times are changed at Berne, 
 and with the Diet of Switzerland. When did all her gray- 
 haired statesmen die, that our allies should have brought beard- 
 less .boys into their councils ? " 
 
 " The Senate of Berne, and the Diet of the Confederacy," 
 said the young man, partly abashed, partly in vindication of 
 what he had before spoken, " allow the young men to know 
 their purposes, since it is they by whom they must be executed. 
 The head which thinks, may well confide in the hand that 
 strikes." • 
 
 " Not till the moment of dealing the blow, j'oung man," said 
 Arnold Biederman, sternly. " What kind of counselor is he 
 who talks locsely the secrets of state affairs before women and 
 strangers ? Go, Rudolph, and all of ye, and try by manly ex- 
 ercises which is best fitted to serve your country, rather than 
 give your judgment upon her measures. — Hold, young man," he 
 continued, addressing Arthur, who had arisen, "this does not 
 apply to you, who are unused to mountain travel, and require 
 rest after it." 
 
 " Under your favor, sir, not so," said the elder stranger. 
 " We hold in England, that the best refreshment after we have 
 
38 , ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 been exhausted by one species of exercise, is to betake our- 
 selves to another ; as riding, for example, affords more relief to 
 one fatigued by walking, than a bed of down would. So, if 
 your young men will permit, my son will join their exercises. 
 
 " He will find them rough playmates," answered the Switzer ; 
 " but be it at your pleasure." 
 
 The young men went out accordingly to the open lawn in 
 front of the house. Anne of Geierstein, and some females of 
 the household, sat down on a bank to judge which performed 
 best, and shouts, loud laughing, and all that announces the riot 
 of juvenile spirits occupied by manly sports, was soon after 
 heard by the two seniors, as they sat together in the hall. The 
 master of the house resumed the wine-flask, and having filled 
 the cup of his guest, poured the remainder into his own; 
 
 " At an age, worthy stranger," he said, " when the blood 
 grows colder, and the feelings heavier, a moderate cup of wine 
 brings back light thoughts, and makes the Ufnbs supple. Yet, 
 I almost wish that Noah had never planted the grape, when of 
 late years I have seen with my own eyes my countryman swill 
 wine like very Germans, till they were like gorged swine, in- 
 capable of sense, thought, or motion." 
 
 " It is a vice," said the Englishman, " which I have observed 
 gains ground in your country, where within a century I have 
 heard it was totally unknown." 
 
 " It was so," said the Swiss, " for wine was seldom made at 
 home and never imported from abroad ; for indeed none pos- 
 sessed the means of purchasing that, or aught else, which our 
 valleys produce not. But our wars and our victories have gained 
 us wealth as well as fame ; and in the poor thoughts of one 
 Switzer at least, we had been better without both, had we not 
 also gained liberty by the same exertion. It is something, how- 
 ever, that commerce may occasionally send into our remote 
 mountains a sensible visitor like 3'ourself, worthy guest, whose 
 discourse shows him to be a man of sagacity and discernment ; 
 for though I love not the increasing taste for trinkets and gew- 
 gaws which you merchants introduce, yet I acknowledge that we 
 simple mourjtaineers learn from men like you more ti the world 
 around us, than we could acquire by our own exertions. You 
 are bound, you say, to Bile, and thence to the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy's leaguer ? " 
 
 " I am so, my worthy host " — said the merchant, " that is, 
 providing I can perform my journey with safety." 
 
 " Your safety, good friend, may be assured, if you list to 
 tarry for two or three days ; for in that space I shall myself take 
 the journey, and with such an escort as will prevent any risk of 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 3g 
 
 danger. You will find in me a sure and faithful guide, atid I 
 shall learn from you muchof other countries, which it concerns 
 me to know better than I do. Is it a bargain ? " 
 
 " The proposal is too much to my advantage to be refused," 
 said the Englishman ; " but may I ask the purpose of your 
 journey ? " 
 
 " I chid yonder boy but now," answered Biederman, "for" 
 speaking on public affairs without reflection, and before the 
 whole family ; but our tidings and my errand need not be con- 
 cealed from a considerate person like you, who must indeed 
 soon learn it from public rumor. You know doubtless the mutual 
 hatred which subsists between Louis XI. of France and Charles 
 of Burgundy, whom men call the Bold ; and having seen these 
 countries, as I understand from your former discourse, you are 
 probably well aware of the various contending interests, which 
 besides the personal hatred of the sovereigns, ' make them 
 irreconcilable enemies. Now Louis, whom the world cannot 
 match for craft and subtlety, is using all his influence, by dis- 
 tributions of large sums amongst some of the counselors of our' 
 neighbors of Berne, by pouring treasures into the exchequer of 
 that state itself, by holding out the bait of emolument to the 
 old men, and encouraging the violence of the young, to urge the 
 Bernese into a war with the Duke. Charles, on the other hand, 
 is acting, as he frequently does, exactly as Louis could have 
 wished. Our neighbors and allies of Berne do not, like us of 
 the Forest Cantons, confine themselves to pasture or agriculture, 
 but carry on considerable commerce ; which the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy has in various instances interrupted, by the exactions and 
 violence of his officers in the frontier towns, as doubtless well 
 known to you." 
 
 " Unquestionably," answered the merchant ; they are uni- 
 versally regarded as vexatious." 
 
 " Y(5u will not then be surprised, that, solicited by the one 
 sovereign, and aggrieved by the other, proud of past victories, 
 and ambitious of additional power, Berne and the City Cantons 
 of our Confederacy, whose representatives, from their superior 
 wealth and better education, 'have more to say in our Diet than 
 we of the Forests, should be bent upon war, from which it has 
 hitherto happened that the Republic has always derived victory, 
 wealth, and increase of territory." 
 
 " Ay, worthy host, and of glory," said Philipson, interrupt- 
 ing him with some enthusiasm ; " I wonder not that the brave 
 youths of your states are willing to thrust themselves upon new 
 wars, since their past victories have been so brilliant and so 
 far-famed." ' . * 
 
40 ANNE OF CEIERSTEJN. 
 
 "You are no wise merchant, kind guest," answered the 
 host, " if you regard success in former desperate undertakings 
 as an encouragement to future rashness. Let us ninke abetter 
 use of past victories. When we fought for our liberiies God 
 blessed our arms ; but will he do so if we fight either for aggran- 
 dizement or for the gold of France '>. " 
 
 " Your doubt is just," said the merchant, mere sedately ; 
 " but suppose you draw the sword to put an end to the vexatious 
 exactions of Burgundy ? " 
 
 " Hear me, good friend," answered the Switzer ; " it maybe 
 that we of the Forest Cantons think too little of those matters 
 of trade, which so much engross the attention of the burghers 
 of Berne. Yet we will not desert our neighbors and allies in 
 a just quarrel ; and it is well-nigh settled that a deputation 
 shall be sent to the Duke of Burgundy to request redress. In this 
 embassy the General Diet now assembled at Berne have 
 requested that I should take some share ; and hence the journey 
 in which I propose that you should accompany me." 
 
 " It will be much to my satisfaction to travel in your com- 
 pany, worthy host," said the Englishman. " But, as I am a 
 true n;ian, methinks your port and figure resemble an envoy of 
 defiance rather than a messenger of peace." 
 
 " And I too might say," replied the Switzer. " that your 
 language and sentiments, my honored guest, rather belong to 
 the sword than the measuring wand." 
 
 " I was bred to the sword, worthy sir, before I took the 
 cloth-yard in my hand," replied Philipson, smiling, " and it 
 may be I am still more partial to my old trade than wisdom 
 would altogether recommend." 
 
 " I thought so," said Arnold ; " but then you fought most 
 likely under your country's banners agains't a foreign ancj 
 national enemy, and in that case I will admit that war has 
 something in it which elevates the heart above the clue sense 
 it should entertain of the calamity inflicted and endured by 
 God's creatures on each side. But the warfare in which I was 
 engaged had no such gilding. It was the miserable war of 
 Zurich, where Switzers leveled their pikes against the bosoms 
 of their own countrymen ; and quarter was asked and refused 
 in the same kindly mountain language. From such remem- 
 brances your warlike recollections are "probably free." 
 
 The merchant hung down his head and pressed his forehead 
 with his hand, as one to whom the most painful thoughts were 
 suddenly recalled. 
 
 " Alas ! " he said, " I deserve to feel the pain which your 
 words inflict. What nation can know the woes of England 
 
*> ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 41 
 
 that has liot felt them — what eye can estimate them which had 
 not seen a land torn and bleeding with the strife of two desper- 
 ate factions ; battles fought in every province ; plains heaped 
 with slain, and scaffolds drenched in blood ! Even in your 
 quiet valleys, methinks, you may have heard of the Civil Wars of 
 England ? " ' 
 
 " I do indeed bethink me," said the Switzer, " that England 
 had lost her possessions in France during many years of bloody 
 internal wars concerning the color of a rose — was it not? — But 
 these are ended." 
 
 " For the present," answered Philipson, "it would seem 
 so." 
 
 As he spoke, there was a knock at the door ; the master of 
 the house said, " Come in ; " the door opened, and, with the 
 reverence which was expected from young persons toward 
 their elders in those pastoral regions, the fine form of Anne of 
 Geierstein presented itself. 
 
 CHAPTER FOURTH, 
 
 And now the well-known boW the master bore, 
 Turn'd on all sides, and view'd it o'er and o'er ; 
 Whilst some deriding, " How he turns the bow !, 
 Some other like it sure the mart must know : 
 Or else would copy — or in bows he deals ; 
 Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals." 
 ' Pope's Homer's Odyssey. 
 
 The fair maiden approached with the half-bashful half- 
 important look which sits so well on a young housekeeper, 
 when she is at once proud and ashamed of the matronly duties 
 she is called upon to discharge, and whispered something in 
 her uncle's ear. 
 
 " And could not the idle-pated boys have' brought their own 
 errand — what is it they want that they cannot ask themselves, 
 but must send tliee to beg it for them ? Had it been anything 
 reasonable, I should have heard it dinned into my ears by forty 
 voices, so modest are our Swiss youths become now-a-days." 
 She stooped forward, and again whispered in his ear, as he 
 fondly stroked" her curling tresses with his ample hand, and 
 replied, " The bow of Buttisholz, my dear ? why the youths 
 surely are not grown stronger since last year, when none of 
 them could bend it ? But yonder it hangs with its three arrows. 
 
42 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Who is the wise champion that is challenger at a game where 
 he is sure to be foiled ? " 
 
 ■' It is this gentleman's son, sir," said the maiden, " who, not 
 being able to contend with my cousins in running, leaping, 
 hurling the bar, or pitching the stone, has challenged them to 
 ride, or to shoot with the English long-bow." i 
 
 " To ride," said the venerable Swiss, " were difficult, where 
 there are no horses^ and no level ground to career upon if there 
 were. But an English bow he shall have, since we happen to 
 possess one. Take it to the young men, my niece, with the 
 three arrows, and say to them from me, that he; who bends it 
 will do more than William Tell, or the renowned Stauffacher, 
 could have done." 
 
 As the maiden went to take the weapon from the place where 
 it hung amid the group of arms which Philipson had formerly 
 remarked, the English merchant observed, " that were the min- 
 strels of his land to assign her occupation, so fair a maiden 
 should be bow-bearer to none but the little blind god Cupid." 
 
 " I will have nothing of the blind god Cupid," said Arnold, 
 hastily, yet half laughing at the same time ; " we have been 
 deafened with the foolery of minstrels and strolling minne- 
 singers, ever since the wandering knaves have found there were 
 pence to be gathered among us. A Swiss maiden should only 
 sing Albert Ischudi's ballads, or the merry lay of the going out) 
 and return of the cows to and from the mountain pastures." | 
 
 Whil'e he spoke, the damsel had selected from the arms a' 
 bow of extraordinary streifgth, considerable above six feet in 
 length, with three shafts of a cloth-yard long. Philipson asked 
 to look at the weapons, and examined them closely. " It is a 
 tough piece of yew," he said. " I should know it, since I have 
 dealt in such connnodities in my time ; but when I was of 
 Arthur's age I could have bent it as easily, as a boy bends aj 
 willow." j 
 
 " We are too old to boast like boys,'' said Arnold BiederJ 
 man, with something of a reproving glance at his companion] 
 " Carry Ae bow to thy kinsmen, Anne, and let him who can 
 bend it say he beat Arnold Biedernian." As he spoke, he 
 turned his ey6s on the spare, yet muscular figure of the 
 Englishman, then again glanced down on his own stately person^ 
 
 " You must remember, good my host," ' said Philipsonj 
 " that weapons are wielded not by strength, but by art an(j 
 sleight of hand. What most I wonder at, is to see in this plac4 
 a bow made by Matthew of Doncasfer, a bowyer who lived at 
 least a hundred years ago, remarkable for the great toughness 
 and strength of the weapons which he made, and which are now 
 
AKNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 43 
 
 become somewhat unmang,geable, even by an English yeo- 
 man." , 
 
 " How are you assured of the maker's name, worthy 
 guest? " replied the Swiss. 
 
 " By old Matthew's mark," answered the Englishman " and 
 his initials cut upon the bow. 1 wonder not a little to find 
 such a weapon here, and in such good preservation." 
 
 " It has been regularly waxed, oiled, and kept in good order," 
 said the Landamman, " being preserved as a tropliy of a memo- 
 rable day. It would but grieve you to recount its early history, 
 since it was taken in a day fatal to your country." 
 \) " My country," said the Englishman composedly, " has gained 
 so many victories, that her children may well afford to hear of 
 a single defeat. But I knew not that the English ever warred 
 in Switzerland." 
 
 " Not precisely as a nation," answered Biederman ; " but 
 it was in my grandsire's days, that a large body of roving sol- 
 diers, composed of men from almost all countries, but especi- 
 ally Englishmen, Normatis, and Gascons, poured down on the 
 Argau, and the districts adjacent. They were headed by, a 
 great warrior called Ingelram de Couci, who pretended some 
 claims upon the Duke of Austria; to satisfy which he ravaged 
 indifferently the Austrian territory and that of our confeder- 
 acy, His soldiers were hired warriors — Free Companions they 
 called themselves— that seemed to belong to no country, and 
 were as brave in the fight as they were cruel in their depreda- 
 tions. Some pause in the constant wars betwixt France and 
 England had deprived many of those bands of their ordinary 
 employment, and battle being their element, they came to seek 
 it among our valleys. The air seemed on fire with the blaze 
 of their armor, and the very sun was darkened at the flight of 
 their arrows. They did us much evil, and we sustained the 
 loss of more than one battle. But we met them at Buttisholz, 
 and mingled the blood of many a rider (noble as they were 
 called and esteemed) with that of their horses. The huge 
 mound that covers the bones of man and steed is Still called 
 the English Barrow." 
 
 Philipson was silent for a minute or two, and then replied,, 
 " Then let them sleep in peace. If they did wrong, they paid 
 ;for it with their lives ; and that is all the ransom that mortal 
 man can render for 'his transgressions.-^Heaven pardon their 
 souls!" 
 
 " Amen," replied the Landamman, " and those of all brave 
 men ! — My grandsire was at the battle, and was held to have 
 dertieaned himself like a good soldier ; and this bow has been 
 
44 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 ever since carefully preserved in our family. There is a proph- 
 ecy about it, but I hold it not worthy of remark." 
 
 Philipson was about to inquire further, but was interrupted 
 by a loud cry of surprise and astonishment from without. 
 
 " I must out," said Biederman, " and see what these wild 
 lads are doing. It is not now as formerly in this land, when 
 the young dared not judge for themselves, till the old man's 
 I voice had been heard." 
 
 He went forth from the lodge, followed by his guest.^ The 
 company who had witnessed the games were all talking, shout- 
 ing, and disputing in the same breath ; while Arthur Philipson 
 stood a little apart from the rest, leaning on the unbent bow 
 with apparent indifference. At the sight of the Landamman 
 all were silent. 
 
 " What means this unwonted clamor ? " he said, raising a 
 voice to which all were accustomed to listen with reverence. — 
 " Rudiger," addressing the eldest of his sons, " has the young 
 stranger bent the bow .-' " 
 
 " He has, father," said Rudiger ; " and he has hit the mark. 
 Three such shots were never .shot by William Tell." 
 
 " It was chance — pure chance," said the young Swiss from 
 Berne. " No human skill could have done it, much less a 
 puny lad, baffled in all besides that he attempted among us." 
 
 " But what has been done ?" said the Landamman. — " Nay, 
 speak not all at once ! — Anne of Geierstein, thou hast more 
 sense and breeding than these boys — tell me how the game has 
 gone." The maiden seemed a little confused at • this appeal, 
 but answered with a composed and downcast look — 
 
 " The mark was, as usual, a pigeon to a pole. All the young 
 men, except the stranger, had practiced at it with the cross- 
 bow and long-bow without hitting it. When I brought out the 
 bow of Buttisholz, I offered it first to my kinsmen. None 
 would accept of it, saying, respected uncle, that a task too 
 great for you, must be far too difficult for them." 
 
 ■' They said well," answered Arnold Biederman ; " and the 
 stranger, clid he string the bow ? " 
 
 " He did, my uncle ; but first he wrote something on a piece 
 of paper, and placed it in my hands." j 
 
 " And did he shoot and hit the mark ? " continued the sur- 
 prised Switzer. 
 
 " He first," said the maiden, " removed the pole a hundred 
 yards further than the post where it stood." 
 
 " Singular ! " said the Landamman, " that is double the 
 usual distance." 
 
 " He thendr.ew the bow," continued the maiden, " and shot 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTETN. 
 
 45- 
 
 off, one after another, with incredible rapidity, the thi-ee arrows 
 which he had stuck into liis belt. The first clef t the pole, the 
 second cut the string, the , third kiiled the poor bird as it rose 
 into tlie air." , , 
 
 " By Saint Mary of Einsiedlen," said the old man, looking 
 up in*amaze, " if your eyes really saw this, they saw'such arch- 
 ery as was never before witnessed in the Forest States ! " 
 
 " I say nay to that, my revered kinsman," replied Rudolph 
 Donnerhugel, whose vejcation was apparent ; " it was mere 
 chance, if not illusion or witchery." 
 
 " What say'st thou of it thyself, Arthur ? " said his father, 
 half smiling ; " was thy success by chance or skill ? " 
 
 " My father," said the young man, " I need not tell you that 
 I have done but an ordinary feat for an English bowman. Nor 
 do I speak to gratify .that misproud and ignorant young man. 
 But to our worthy host and his family I make answer. This 
 tyouth charges me with having deluded men's eyes,, or hit the 
 r mark by chance. For illusion, yonder is the pierced pole, the 
 severed string, and the slain bird, they, will endure sight and 
 handling ; and, besides, if that fair maiden will open the note, 
 which I put into her ha.nd, she will find evidence to assure you, 
 that even before I drew the bow, I had fixed upon the three 
 marks which I designed to aim at." 
 
 " Produce the scroll, good niece," said her uncle, " and end 
 the controversy." 
 
 " Nay, under your favor, my worthy host," said Arthur, 
 " it is but sowie foolish rhymes addressed to the maiden's own 
 eye." 
 
 " And under your favor, sir," said the Landamman^ " what- 
 soever is fit for my niece's eyes may greet my ears." 
 
 He took the scroll from the maiden, who blushed deeply 
 when she resigned it. The character in which it was written 
 was so fine, that the Liandamman in surprise exclaimed, " No 
 clerk of Saint Gall could have written more fairly. — Strange," 
 he again repeated, '* that a hand which could draw so true a 
 bow, should have the cunning to form characters so fair." He 
 then exclaimed anew, "Ha! verses, by. Our Lacly ! What, 
 [lave we minstrels disguised as traders ? " He then opened the 
 scroll, and read the following lines : — 
 
 I£ I hit mast, and line, a,iicl bird, 
 An English archer keeps his word. 
 Ah ! maiden, didst thou aim at me, 
 A single glance were worth the three. 
 
 " Here is rare rhyming, my worthy guest," said the Landain- 
 
46 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN: 
 
 man, shaking his head ; " fine words to make foolish maidens 
 fain. But do not excuse it ; it is your country fashion, and we 
 know how to treat it as such." And without further allusion 
 to the concluding couplet, the reading of which threw the poet, 
 as well as the object of the verses, into some discomposuje, he 
 added gravely, '• You must now allow, Rudolph Donnerhugel, 
 that the stranger has fairly attained the three marks which he 
 proposed to himself." 
 
 " That he has attained them is plain," answered the party to 
 whom the appeal was made ; " but that he has done this fairly 
 may be doubted, if there are such things as witchery and magic 
 in this world." 
 
 '■' Shame, shame, Rudolph ! " said the Landamman ; " can 
 spleen and envy have weight with so brave a man as you, from 
 whom my sons ought to learn temperance, forbearance, and 
 candor, as well as manly courage and dexterity .' " 
 
 The 'Bernese colored high under this rebuke, to which he 
 ventured not to attempt a reply. 
 
 " To your sports till sunset, my children," continued Ar- 
 nold ; " while I and my worthy friend occupy our time with a 
 walk, for which the evening is now favorable." 
 
 " Methinks," said the English merchant, " I should like to 
 visit the ruins of yonder castle, situated by the waterfall. There 
 is something of melancholy dignity in such a scene which recon- 
 ciles us to the misfortunes of our own time, by showing that our 
 ancestors, who were perhaps more intelligent or more powerful, 
 have nevertheless, in their days, encountered cares and dis- 
 tresses similar to those which we now groan under." 
 
 " fiave with you, my worthy sir," replied his host ; " there 
 will be time also upon the road to talk of things that you should 
 know." 
 
 The slow step of the two elderly men carried them by degrees 
 from the limits of the lawn, where shout, and laugh, and halloo, 
 were again revived. Young Philipson, whose success as an 
 archer had obliterated all recollection of former failure, made 
 other attempts to mingle in the manly pastimes of the country, 
 and gained a considerable portion of applause. The young 
 men who had but lately been so ready to join in ridiculing him, 
 now began to consider him as a person to be looked up and ap- 
 pealed to ; while Rudolph Donnerhugel saw with resentment that 
 he was no longer without a rival in the opinion of his male cou- 
 sins, perhaps of his kinswoman also. The proud young Swiss re- 
 flected with bitterness that he had fallen under the Landamman's 
 displeasure, declined in reputation with his companions, of whom 
 he had been hitherto the leader, and even hazarded a more 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 47 
 
 mortifying disappointment, all, as his swelling heart expressed 
 it, through the means of a stranger stripling, of neither blood 
 nor fame, who could not step from one rock to another without 
 the encouragement of a girl. 
 
 In this irritated mood, he drew near the young Englishman, 
 and while he seemed to address him on the chances of the 
 sports which were still proceeding, he conveyed, in a whisper, 
 matter of a far different tendency.. Striking Arthur's shoulder 
 with the frank bluntness of a mountaineer, he said aloud : 
 " Yonder bolt of Ernest whistled through the air like a falcon 
 when she stoops down the wind ! " And then proceeded in a 
 deep low voice, " You merchants sell gloves — do you ever deal 
 in single gauntlets, or only in pairs ?" 
 
 " I sell no single glove," said Arthur, instantly apprehend- 
 itig him, and sufficiently disposed to resent the scornful looks 
 of the Bernese champion during the time of their meal, and 
 his having but lately imputed his successful shooting to chance 
 or sorcery, — " I sell no single glove, sir, but never refuse to ex- 
 change one." 
 
 " You are apt, I see," said Rudolph ; "look at the players 
 while I speak, or our purpose Will be suspected — You are 
 quicker, I say, of apprehension than I expected. If we ex- 
 change our gloves, how shall each redeeni his own? " 
 
 " With our good swords," said Arthur Philipson. 
 
 " In arinor, or as we stand." 
 
 " Even as we stand," said Arthur. " I have no better gar- 
 ment of proof than this doublet — no other weapon than my 
 sword ; and these. Sir Switzer, I hold enough for the purpose. 
 - — Name time and place." 
 
 " The old castle-court at Geiersteiti;" replied Rudolph ; 
 " the time sunrise ; — but we are watched. — I have lost my 
 wager, stranger," he added, speaking aloud, and in an indif- 
 ferent tone of voice, " since Ulrick has made a cast beyond 
 Ernest. — There is my glove, in token I shall not forget the 
 flask of wine." 
 
 " And there is mine," said Arthur, ■' in token I will drink it 
 with you merrily." 
 
 Thus, amid the peaceful though rough sports of their com- 
 panions, did these two hot-headed youths contrive to iiidulge 
 their hostile inclinations toward each other, by settling a meet- 
 ing of deadly purpose. 
 
48 ANNE OF GEJERSTEIN. 
 
 CHAPTER FIFTH. 
 
 ■ I was one 
 
 Who loved the greenwood bank and lowing herd. 
 The russet prize, the lowly peasant's life, 
 Season'd with sweet content, more than the halls 
 Where revelers feast to fever-height. Believe me, 
 There ne'er was poison mix'd in maple bowl. 
 
 > . Anonymous. 
 
 Leaving the young persons engaged with their sports, the. 
 Lanclamman of' Unterwalden and the elder Philipson walked 
 on in, company, conversing chiefly on the political relations of 
 France, England, and Burgundy, until the conversation was 
 changed as they entered the gate of the old castle-yard of 
 Geierstein, where arose the lonely and dismantled keep, sur- 
 rounded by the ruins of other buildings. 
 
 " This has been a proud and a strong habitation in its time," 
 said Philipson. 
 
 "They were a proud and powerful race who held it," re- 
 plied the Landamman. " The Counts of Geierstein have a 
 history which runs back to the times of the old Helvetians, and 
 their deeds are reported to have matched their antiquity. But 
 all earthly grandeur has an end, and free men tread the ruins 
 of their feudal castle, at the most distant sight of whose tur- 
 rets serfs were formerly obliged to- vail their bonnets, if they 
 would escape the chastisement of contumacious rebels." 
 
 " I observe," said the merchant, " engraved on a stone under 
 yonder turret, the crest,. I conceive, of the last family, a vulture 
 perched on a rOck, descriptive, doubtless, of the word Geier- 
 stein." 
 
 " It is the ancient cognizance of the family," replied Arnold 
 Biederman, " and, as you say, expresses the name of the castle, 
 being the same with that of the knights who so long held it." 
 
 " I also remarked in your hall," continued the merchant, 
 " a helmit bearing the same crest or cognizance. It is, I sup- 
 pose, a trophy of the triumph of the Swiss peasants over the; 
 nobles of Geierstein, as the English bow is preserved in remem- 
 brance of the battle of Buttisholz ? " 
 
 "And you, fair sir," replied the Landamman, "would, I 
 perceive, from the prejudices of your education, regard the one 
 victory with as unpleasant feelings as the other ? — Strange, that 
 the veneration for rank should be rooted even in the mmds of 
 
ANNE OF GEIEKSTEIN. 49 
 
 those who have no claim to share it ! But clear up your down- 
 cast brows, my worthy guest, and be assured, that though many 
 a proud baron's castle, when Switzerland threw off the bonds of 
 feudal slavery, was plundered and destroyed by the just 
 vengeance of an incensed people, such was not the lot of 
 Geierstein. The blood of the old possessors of these towers still 
 flows in the veins of him by whom these lands are occupied," 
 
 " What am I to understand by that. Sir Landamman ? " said 
 Philipson. " Are not you yourself the occupant of this place ? " 
 
 " And you think, probably," answered Arnold, " because I 
 live like the other shepherds, wear honjespun gray, and hold 
 the plough with ray own hands, I cannot be descended from a 
 line of ancient nobility ? This land holds many such gentle 
 peasants, Sir Merchant ; nor is there a more ancient nobility 
 than that of which the remains are to be found in my native 
 country. But they have voluntarily resigned the oppressive 
 pkrt of their feudal power, and are no longer regarded as wolves 
 amongst the flock, but as sagacious mastiffs, who attend the 
 sheep in time of peace, and are prompt in their defence when 
 war threatens our community." 
 
 " But," repeated the merchant, who could not yet reconcile 
 himself to the idea that his plain and peasant-seeming host was 
 a man of distinguished birth, you bear not the name, worthy 
 sir, of your fathers — They were, you say, the Counts of Geier- 
 stein, and you are" 
 
 " Arnold Biederman, at your command," answered themagis- ' 
 trate. " But know, — if the knowledge can make you sup with 
 more sense of dignity or comfort,^! need but put on yonder 
 old helmet, or, if that were too much trouble, I have only to 
 stick a falcon's feather into rny cap, and call myself Arnold, 
 Count of Geierstein. No man could gainsay me — though 
 whether it would become my Lord Count to drive his bullocks 
 to the pasture, and whether his Excellency the High and Well-' 
 born, could, without derogation, sow a field or reap it, are 
 questions which should be settled beforehand. I see you are 
 confounded, my respected guest, at my degeneracy ; but the 
 state of my family is very soon explained. 
 
 " My lordly fathers ruled this same domain of Geierstein, 
 which in their time was very extensive, much after the mode 
 of feudal barons — that is, they were sometimes the protectors 
 and patrons, but oftener the oppressors, of their subjects. But 
 when my grandfather, Heinrich of Geierstein, flourished, he not 
 only joined the Confederates to repel Ingleram de Couci, and 
 his roving bands, as I already told you, but, when the wars 
 with Austria were renewed, and many of his degree joined with 
 
5° 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 the host of the Emperor Leopold, my ancestor adopteq the 
 opposite side, fought in front of the Confederates, and contril> 
 uted by his skill and valor to the decisive victory at Serapach, 
 in which Leopold lost his life, and the flower of Austrian chivalry 
 fell around him. My father, Count Williewald, followed the 
 same course, both from inclination and polic\'. He united him- 
 self closely with the state of Unterwalden, became a citizen of 
 the Confederacy, and distinguished himself so much, that he 
 was chosen Landamman of the Republic. He had two sons,— 
 myself, and a younger brother, Albert ; and possessed, as he 
 felt himself, of a species of double character, he was desirous, 
 perhaps unwisely (if I may censure the purpose of a deceased 
 parent), that one of his sons should succeed him in his Lord- 
 ship of Geierstein, and the other support the less ostentatious, 
 though not in my thought the less honorable condition, of a free 
 citizen of Unterwalden, possessing such influence among his 
 equals in the Canton as might be acquired by his father's merits 
 and his own. When Albert was twelve years old, our father 
 took us on a short excursion to Germany, where the form, pomp, 
 and magnificence which we witnessed, made a very different 
 impression on the mind of my brother and on my own. What 
 appeared to Albert the consummation of earthly splendor, 
 seemed to me a weary display of tiresome and useless cere- 
 monials. Our father explained his purpose, and offered to me, 
 as his eldest son, the large estate belonging to Geierstein, reserv- 
 ing such a portion of the most fertile ground as might make 
 my brother one of the wealthiest citizens, in a district where 
 competence is esteemed wealth. The tears gushed from Albert's 
 eyes — 'And must my brother,' he said, ' be a noble Count, hon- 
 ored and followed by vassals and attendants, and I a homespun 
 peasant among the gray-bearded shepherds of Unterwalden ? 
 — No, father — I respect your will — but I will not sacrifice my 
 own rights. Geierstein is a fief held of the empire, and the 
 laws entitle me to my equal half of the lands. If my brother 
 be Count of Geierstein, I am not the less Count Albert of Geier- 
 stein ; and I will appeal to the Emperor, rather than that the 
 arbitrary will of one ancestor, though he be my father, shall 
 cancel in me the rank and rights which I have derived from a 
 hundred.' My father was greatly incensed. ' Go,' he said, 
 I proud boy. give the enemy of thy country a pretext to interfere 
 in her affairs — appeal to the will of a foreign prince from the 
 pleasure of thy father. Go, but never again look raein the face, 
 and dread my eternal malediction ! ' Albert was about to reply 
 with vehemence, when I entreated him to be silent, and hear 
 me speak. I had, I said, all my life loved the mountain better 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 51 
 
 than the plain ; had been more pleased to walk than to ride ; 
 more proud to contend with shepherds in their sports, than with 
 nobles in the lists ; and happier in the village dance than among 
 the feasts of the German nobles. ' Let me, therefore,' I said, 
 ' be a citizen of the republic of Unterwalden ; 3'ou will relieve 
 , me of a thousand cares ; and let my brother Albert wear the 
 coronet and bear the honors of Geierstein.' After some further 
 discussion, my father was at length contented to adopt my pro- 
 posal, in order to attain the object which he had so much at 
 heart. Albert was declared heir of his castle and his rank, by 
 the title of Count Albert of Geierstein ; and I was placed irt 
 possession of these fields and fertile meadows amiflst which 
 my house is situated, and my neighbors called me Arnold 
 Biederman." 
 
 " And if Biederman," said the merchant, " means, as I under- 
 stand the word, a man of worth, candor, and generosity, I know 
 none on whom the epithet could be so justly conferred. Yet 
 let me observe, that I praise the conduct, which, in your circuni-. 
 stances, I could not have bowed myspiritto practice. Proceed, 
 I pray you, with the history of your house, if the recital be not 
 painful to you." 
 
 " I have little more to say," replied the Landamman. " My 
 father died soon after the settlement of his estate in the manner 
 J have told you. My brother had other possessions in Swabia 
 and Westphalia, and seldom visited his paternal castle, which 
 was chiefly occupied by a seneschal, a man so obnoxious to the 
 vassals of the family, that but for the protection afforded by my 
 near residence, and relationship with his Icfl-d, he would have 
 been plucked out of the Vulture's Nest, and treated with as little 
 ceremony as if he haid been the vulture himself. Neither, to say 
 the truth, did my brother's occasional visits to Geierstein afford 
 his vassals much relief, or acquire any popularity for himself. 
 He heard with the ears and saw with the eyes of his cruel a,nd 
 interested steward, Ital Schreckenwald, and would not listen 
 even to my interference and admonition. Indeed,' though he 
 always demeaned himself with personal, kindness toward me, I 
 believe he considered me as a dull and poor-spirited clown, who , 
 had disgraced my noble blood by my mean propensities. He 
 showed contempt on every ocqasion for the prejudices of his 
 countrymen, and particularly by wearing a peacock's feather in 
 public, and causing his followers to display the same badge, 
 though the cognizance of the house of Austria, and so unpopular 
 in this country, that men have been put to death for no better 
 reason than for carrying it in their caps. In the meantime I was 
 married -to my Bertha, now a saint in Heaven, by whom I had 
 
52 ANNE OF CEIERSTEIN. 
 
 six stately sons, five of whom you saw, surrounding my table thiS! 
 day. Albert also married. His wife was a lady of rank"' m 
 Westphalia, but his bridal-bed was less fruitful ; he had only one 
 daughter, Anne of Geierstein. Then came on the wars between^ 
 the city of Zurich and our Forest Cantons, in which so much' 
 blood was shed, and when our brethren of Zurich were so ill 
 advised as to embrace the alliance of Austria. Their Emperor 
 strained every nerve to avail himself of the favorable oppor- 
 tunity afforded by the disunion of the Swiss ; and engaged all 
 with whom he had influence to second his efforts. With my' 
 brother he was but too successful ; for Albert not only took arrris 
 in the Emperor's cause, but admitted into the strong fortress- of 
 Geierstein a band of Austrian soldiers, with whom the wicked- 
 Ital Schreckenwald laid waste the whole country, excepting my 
 little patrimony." 
 
 " It came to a severe pass with you, my worthy host," said 
 the merchant, " since you were to decide against the cause of 
 your country or that of your brother." 
 
 " I did not hesitate," continued Arnold Biederman. " My 
 brother was in the Emperor's army, > and I was n-ot therefore 
 reduced to act personally against him ; but I denounced war 
 against the robbers and thieves with whom Schreckenwald had 
 filled my father's house. It was waged with various fortune. 
 The seneschal, during my absence, burnt down my house, and 
 slew my youngest son, who died, alas ! in defence of his father's 
 hearth. It is little to add that my lands were wasted and my 
 flocks destroyed. On the other hand, I succeeded, with help 
 of a body of thei peasants of Unterwaldeii, in storming' the 
 Castle of Geierstein. It was offered back to me by the Confed- 
 erates ; but I had no desire to sully the fair cause in which I 
 had assumed arms, by enriching myself at the expense of my 
 brother ; and besides, to have dwelt in- that guarded hold would 
 1 have been a penance to one, the sole protectors of whose house 
 of late years had been a latch and a shepherd's cur. The castle 
 was therefore dismantled, as you see, by .order of the elders of 
 the Canton ; and I even think, that considering the uses it was 
 too ofte-n put to, I look with more pleasure on the rugged re- 
 mains of Geierstein, than I ever did when it was entire, and 
 apparently impregnable." 
 
 "I can understand your feelings," said the Englishman, 
 " though I repeat,, my virtue would not perhaps have extended 
 so far beyond the circle of my family affections. Your brother, 
 what said he to your patriotic exertions ? " 
 
 " He was, as I learnt," answered the Landamman, " dread- 
 fully incensed, having no doubt been informed that I had taken 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 53 
 
 his castle with a view to my own aggrandizement. He even 
 swore he would renounce my kindred, seek me through the 
 battle, vand slay me with his own hand. We were, in fact, both 
 at the battle of Freyenbach, but, my brother was prevented 
 from attempting the execution of his vindictive purpose by a 
 wound from an arrow, which occasioned his being carried out 
 of thfe m^I^e. I was afterward in the bloody and melancholy 
 fight at Mount lierzel, and that other onslaught at the Chapel 
 of St. Jacob, which 'brought our brethren of Zurich to terms, 
 and reduced Austria once more to the necessity of making 
 peace with us. Afrer this war of thirteen years, the JQiet passed 
 sentence of banishment for life on my brother Albert, and would 
 have deprived him of his possessipns, but forbore in considera- 
 tion of what they thought my good service. When the sentence 
 was intimated to the Count of Geierstein, he returned an answer 
 of defiance ; yet a singular circumstance showed us not loiig 
 afterward that he retained an attachment to his country, and 
 amidst his resentment against me, his brother, did justice to my 
 unaltered affection for him." 
 
 " I would pledge my credit," said the merchant, " that what 
 follows relates to yonder fair maiden, your niece ?" 
 
 '".You guess rightly," said the Landamman. " For some 
 time we heard, though indistinctly (for we have, as you know, 
 but little communication withforeign countries), that my brother 
 was high in favor at the court of the Emperor, but latterly 
 that he had fallen unde|- suspicion, and, in the course of some 
 of those revolutions common at the courts of princes, had been 
 driven into exile. It was shortly after this news, and, as I 
 think, more than - seven years ago, that I was returning from 
 hunting on the further side of the river, had passed the narrow 
 bridge as usual, and was walking through the courtyard which 
 we have lately left " (for their walk was now turned homeward), 
 " when a voice said in the German language, ' Uncle, have com- 
 passion upon me ! ' As I looked around, I beheld a girl of ten 
 years old approach timidly from the shelter of the ruins, and 
 kneel down at my feet. ' Uncle, spare my life,' she said, hold- 
 ing up her little hands in the act of supplication, while mortal 
 terror was painted upon her countenance.-^' Am I your uncle, 
 little maiden ? ' said I ; ' and if I am, why -should you fear me ? ' 
 — ' Because you' are the head of the wicked and base clowns who 
 delight to spill noble blood,' replied the girl, with a courage 
 which surprised me.— 'What is your name, my little maiden ? ' 
 said I ; ' and who, having planted in your mind -opinions so 
 unfavorable t(? your kinsman,' has brought you hither, to see 
 if he resembles the picture you haye received of him ? ' — ' It was 
 
54 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Ital Schreckenwald that brought me hither,' said the girl, only 
 half comprehending the nature of my question. — ' Ital Schrecken- 
 wald ? ' I repeated, shocked at the name of a wretch I have so 
 much reason to hate. A Voice from the ruins, like that of a 
 sullen echo f ron. the grave, answered, ' Ital Schreckenwald ! ' 
 and the caitiff issued from his place of concealment, and stood 
 before me with that singular indifference to danger which he 
 unites so his atrocity of character. I had my spiked mountain- 
 staff in my hand — What should I have done — or what would 
 you have done, under like circumstances ? " i ' 
 
 " I would have laid him on the earth, with his skull shivered 
 like an icicle ! " said the Englishman, fiercely. 
 
 " I had well-nigh done so," replied the Swiss, "but he was 
 nharmed, a messenger fi-om my brother, and therefore no object 
 of revenge. His own undismayed and audacious conduct con- 
 tributed to save him. ' Let the vassal of the noble and high- 
 born Count of Geierstein hear the words of his master, and let 
 him look that they are obeyed,' said the insolent ruffian. ' Doff 
 thy cap, and listen ; for though the voice is mine, the words are 
 those of the noble Coiinf.' — ' God and man know,' replied I, ' if 
 I owe my brother respect or homage — it is njuch if, in respect 
 for him, I defer paying to his messenger the mead I dearly owe 
 him. Proceed with thy tale, and rid me of thy hateful presence.' 
 -7-' Albert, Count of Geierstein, thy lord and my lord,' proceeded 
 Schreckenwald, ' having on his hand wars, and other affairs of 
 weight sends his daughter the Counters Anne, to thy charge, 
 and graces thee so far as to intrust to thee her support and 
 nurture, until it shall suit his purposes to require her back from 
 thee ; and he desires that thou apply to her maintenance the 
 rents and profits of the lands of Geierstein, which thou hast 
 usurped from hini.' — ' Ital Schreckenwald,' I replied, ' I will 
 not stop to ask if this mode of addressing me be according to 
 my brother's direc'tions, or thine own insolent pleasure. If cir- 
 cumstances have, as thou sayest, deprived my niece of her 
 natural protector, I will be to her as a father, nor shall she 
 want aught which I have to give her. The lands of Geierstein 
 are forfeited to the state, the castle is ruinous, as thou seest, 
 and it is much of thy crimes that the house of my fathers is 
 desolate. But where I dwell Anne of Geierstein shall dwell, as 
 my children fare shall she fare, and she shall be to me as a 
 daughter. And now thou hast thine ertand — Go hence, if thoii 
 lovest thy life ; for it is unsafe parleying with the father, when 
 thy hands are stained with the blood of the son.' The wretch 
 retired as I spoke, but took his leave with his usual determined 
 insolence of manner. — ' Farewell,' he said, ' Count of the Plough 
 
ANNE QF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 SS 
 
 and Harrow — farewell, noble champion of paltry burghers !' 
 He disappeared, and released me frym the strong temptation 
 under which I labored, and wh-ieh urged me to stain with his 
 blood the place which had witnessed his cruelty and his crimes. 
 I conveyed my niece to my house, and soon convinced her tlrat 
 I was her sincere friend. I inured her, as if she had been my 
 daughter, to all our mountain exercises; and while she excels 
 in these the damsels of the district, there burst from her sixh 
 sparkles of sense and courage, mingled with delicacy, as belong 
 not — I must needs own the truth — to the simple maidens of 
 these wild hills, but relish of a nobler stem and higher breeding. 
 Yet they are so happily mixed with simplicity and courtesy, 
 that Anne of Geierstein is justly considered as the pride of tlie 
 ;district ; nor do I doubt but that, if she should make a worthy 
 choice of a husba,nd, the state would assign her a large dower 
 out of her father's possessions, since it is not our maxim to 
 punish the child for the faults of the parent." 
 
 " It vsfill naturally be your anxious desire, my worthy host,'' 
 replied the Englishman, "to secure to your niece, in whose 
 praises I have deep cause to join with a grateful voice, such a 
 suitable match as her birth and expectations, but above all her 
 pierit, demand." 
 
 "It is, my good guest," said the Landamman, "that which 
 hath often occupied my thoughts. The over-near relationship 
 prohibits what would have been my most earnest desire, the 
 hope of seeing her wedded to one of my own sons. This )'Oung 
 man Rudolph Donnerhugel, is brave, and highly esteemed by 
 his fellow-citizens ; but more ambitious, and more desirous of 
 distinction, than I would desire for my niece's companion' 
 through life. His temper is violent, though his heart, I trust, 
 is good. But I am like to be unpleasantly released from all 
 care on this score, since my brother, having, as it seemed, for- 
 gotten Anne for seven years -and upward, has, by a letter, which 
 I have lately received, demanded that she shall be restored to 
 him. — You can read, my worthy sir, for your profession requires 
 it. See, here is the scroll, coldly worded, but far less unkindly 
 than his unbrotherly message byltal Schreckenwald — Read it, 
 I pray you, aloud." 
 
 The merchant read accordingly. 
 
 " Brother — I thank you for the care you have taken of my 
 daughter, for she has been in safety when she would otherwise 
 haye been in peril, and kindly used when she would have beeii 
 in Jiardship. I now entreat you to restore her to me, and trust 
 that she will come with the virtues which bepome a woman in 
 
5 6 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 every station, and a disposition to lay aside the habits of a 
 Swiss villager, for the graces of a high-born maiden. — Adieu. 
 I thank you once more for your care, and would repay it were 
 it in my power; but you need nothing I can give, having 
 renounced the rank to which you were born, and made your 
 nest on the ground where the storm passes over you. I rest 
 your brother, 
 
 " Geierstein." 
 
 "It is addressed 'to Count Arnold of Geierstein, called Arnold 
 Biederman.' A postscript requires you to send the maiden to 
 the court of the Duke of Burgundy. — This, good sir, appears' to 
 me ,the language of a haughty man, divided betwixt the recol- 
 lection of old offence and recent obligation. The speech of 
 his messenger was that of a malicious vassal, desirous of vent- 
 ing his own spite under pretence of doing his lord's errand." 
 
 '' I so receive both," replied Arnold Biederman. 
 
 " And do you intend," continued the merchant, " to resign 
 this beautiful and interesting creature to the conduct of her 
 father, wilful as he seems to be, without knowing what his con- 
 dition is, or what his power of protecting her ? " 
 
 The Landamman hastened to reply. '• The tie which unites 
 the parent to the child, is the earliest and the most hallowed 
 that binds the human race. The difficulty of her traveling in 
 safety has hitherto prevented my attempting to carry my brother's 
 instructions into execution. But as I am now likely to journey 
 in person toward the court of Charles, I have determined that 
 Anne shall accompany me ; and as I v/ill myself converse with 
 my brother, whom I have not seen for many years, I shall learn 
 his purpose respecting his -daughter, and it may be I may pre- 
 vail on Albert to suffer her to remain under my charge. — ^And 
 now, sir, having told you of my family affairs at some greater 
 length than was necessary, I must crave your attention as a 
 wise man, to what further I have to say. You know the disposi- 
 tion which young men and women naturally have to talk, jest, 
 and sport with each other, out of which practice arise often more 
 serious attachments, which they call \ow\\x% par amours. I trust, 
 if we are to travel together, you will so school your young man 
 as to make him aware that Anne of Geierstein cannot with 
 propriety on heir part, be made the object of his thoughts or at- 
 tentions." 
 
 The merchant colored with resentment, or something like it. 
 "I asked' not to join your company. Sir Landamman — it was 
 you who requested mine," he said ; " if my son and I have since 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. ^j; 
 
 become in any respect the objects of your suspicion, we will 
 gladly pursue our way separately." 
 
 " Nay, be not angry, worthy guest," said the Landamman ; 
 " we Switzers do not rashly harbor suspicions ; and, that we 
 may not- harbor them, we speak respecting the circumstances 
 out of which they might arise, more plainly than is the wont of 
 more civilized countries. When I proposed to you to be my 
 companion on the journey, to speak the truth, though it may ' 
 displease a father's ear, I regarded your son as a soft, faint- 
 hearted youth, who was, as yet at least, too timid and milky- ■ 
 blooded to attract either respect or regard from the maidens. 
 But a few hours have presented him to us in the character of 
 such a one as is sure to interest them. , He has accomplished 
 the emprise of the. bow, long thought unattainable, and with 
 which a popular report connects an idle. prophecy. lie has wit 
 to make verses, and knows doubtless how to recommend him- 
 self by other accomplishments which bind young persons to 
 each other, though they are lightly esteemed by men whose 
 beards are mixed with graf, like yours, friend merchant, and 
 mine' own. Now you must be aware, that since my brother 
 broke terms with me, simply for preferring the freedom of a 
 Swiss citizen to the tawdry and servile condition of a German 
 courtier, he will not approve of any one looking toward his 
 (laughter who hath not the advantage of noble blood, or who 
 hath, what he would call, debased himself by attention to 
 merchandise, to the cultivation of land — in a word, to any art 
 that is useful. Should your son love Anne of Geierstein, he 
 prepares for himself danger and disappointment. And, now 
 you know the whole, — I ask you. Do we travel together or 
 apart ? " 
 
 " Even as you list, my worthy host," said Philipson, in an 
 indiiferent tone ; " for me, I can but say that such an attach- 
 ment as you speak of would be as contrary to my wishes as to 
 those of your brother, or what I suppose are your own. Arthur 
 Philipson has duties to perform totally inconsistent with his 
 playing the gentle bachelor to any maiden in Switzerland, take 
 Germany to boot, whether of high or low degree. He is an 
 obedient son, besides — hath never seriously disobeyed my com- 
 mands, and I will have an eye upon his motions." • 
 
 Enough, my friend," said the Landamman ; " we travel to- 
 gether, then, and I willingly keep mv original purpose, being 
 both pleased and instructed by your discourse.", ., 
 
 Then, changing the conversation, he began to ask whether 
 his aquaintance thought that the league entered into by the 
 King of England and the Duke of Burgundy would continue 
 
^8 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 fetable. " We hear much," continued the Swiss, " of tlie im- 
 mense army with which King Edward- proposes tlie recovery >of 
 the English dominions in France." 
 
 " I am well aware," said Philipson, " that nothing can be so 
 popular in my country as the invasion of France, and the at- 
 tempt to reconquer Normandy, Maine, alid Gascony, the 
 ancient appanages of our English crown. But I greatly doubt 
 whether the voluptuous usurper, who now calls hirasfelf king,' 
 will be graced by Heaven with success in such an adventure. 
 This Fourth Edward is brave indeed, and has gained every 
 battle in which he drew his sword, and they have been many 
 in number. But ^ince he reached, through a bloody path, to 
 the summit of his ambition, he has shown himself rather a 
 sensual debauchee than a valiant ' knight ; audit is my firm 
 belief, that not even the chance of recovering all the fair domin- 
 ions which were lost during the civil wars excited by his 
 ambitious house, will tempt him to exchange the soft beds of 
 London, with sheets of silk and pillows of down, and the music 
 of a dying lute to lull him to rest, for the turf of France and the 
 reveille of an alarm trumpet." 
 
 " It is the better for us should it prove so," said the Lan- 
 dahiman ; " for if England and Burgundy were to dismember 
 France, as in our fathers' days was nearly accomplished, Duke 
 Charles would then have leisure to exhaust his long-hoarded 
 vengeance against our Confederacy." 
 
 As they conversed thus, they attained once more the lawn 
 in front of Arnold Biederman's mansion, where the contention 
 of the young men had given place to the dance performed by 
 the young persons of both sexes. The dance was led by Anne 
 of Geierstein and the youthful stranger ; which, although it 
 was the most natural arrangement, where the one was a guest, 
 and the other represented the mistress of the family, oc- 
 casioned the Landamman's exchanging a glance with the elder 
 Philipson, as if it had held some relation to the suspicions he 
 hid recently expressed. 
 
 " But so soon as her tincle and his elder guest appeared, 
 Anne of Geierstein took the earliest opportunity of a pause to 
 break off the dance, and to enter into conversation with her 
 kinsman, as if on the domestic affairs under her attendance. 
 Philipson observed, that his host listened seriously to his 
 niece's communication ; and, nodding in his frank manner, 
 seemed to intimate that her request should receive a favorable 
 consideration. 
 
 The family Were presently afterward summoned to attend 
 the evening meal, which consisted chiefly of the excellent fish 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 59 
 
 afforded by the neighboring streams and lakes. A large cup, 
 containing what was called the schlaf-trunk, or sleeping-drink, 
 then went round, which was first quaffed by the master of the 
 household, then modestly tasted by the maiden, next pledged 
 by the two strangers, and finally eitiptied by the rest of the 
 company. Such were then the sober manners of the Swiss, 
 afterward much corrupted by their intercourse with more kix- 
 rurious regions. The guests were conducted to the sleeping 
 1 apartments, where Philipson and young Arthur occupied ilie 
 same couch, and shortly after the whole inhabitants of the 
 household were locked in sound repose. 
 
 CHAPTER SIXTH. 
 
 When we two meet, we meet like rushing torrents ; 
 Like warring winds, like flames fi-oni various points. 
 That mate each otlier's fury — there is nought 
 Of elendental strife, were fiends to guide it, 
 Can inatch the wrath of man. 
 
 Frenaud. 
 
 The elder of our two travelers, though a strong man and 
 familiar with fatigue, slept sounder and longer than usual on 
 the morning which was now beginning to dawn, but his son 
 Arthur had that upon his mind which early interrupted his 
 repose. 
 
 The encounter with the bold Switzer, a chosen man of a 
 renowned race of warriors, was an engagement, which, in the 
 opinion of the period in which he lived, was not to be delayed 
 vOr broken. He left his father's side, avoiding as much as pos- 
 sible the risk of disturbing him, though leven in that case the 
 circumstance would not have excited any attention, as he was 
 in the habit of rising earl)', in order to make preparations for 
 the day's journev, to see that the guide "was on his duty, ar,d 
 that the mule had his provender, and tb discharge similar 
 offices which might otherwise have given trou'ble to his faiher. 
 The old man, however, fatigued with the exertions of the pre- 
 ceding day, slept, as We have said, more soundly than his wont, 
 and Arthur, arming himself with his good sword, sallied cut 
 to the lawn in'front of the Land'amman's dwelling, amid the 
 magic dawn of a beautiful harvest morning, in the Swiss moun- 
 tains. 
 
 The sun was just about to kiss the top of the most gigantic 
 
6o ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 of that race of Titans, though the long shadows still lay on the 
 rough grass, which crisped under the young man's feet, w;ith a 
 strong intimation of frost. But Arthur looked not round on 
 the landscape, however lovely, which lay waiting one flash 
 from the orb of day to start into brilliant existence. He drew 
 the belt of his trusty sword which he was in the .act of fasten- 
 ing when he left the house, and ere he had secured the buckle, 
 he was many paces on his way toward the place where he was ■ 
 to use it. 
 
 It was still the custom of that military period, to regard a 
 summons to combat as a sacred engagement, preferable to all 
 others which could be formed ; and stifling whatever inward 
 feelings of reluctance Nature might oppose to the dictates of 
 fashion, the step of a gallant to the plaee of encounter was 
 required to be as free and ready as if he had been going to a 
 bridal. I do not know whether, this alacrity was altogether 
 real on the part of Arthur Philipson ; but, if it were otherwise, 
 neither his look nor pace betrayed the secret. 
 
 Having hastily traversed the fields and groves which sepa- 
 rated the Landamman's residence from the old castle of 
 Geierstein, he entered the courtyard from the side where the 
 castle overlooked the land ; and nearly in the same instant his 
 almost gigantic antagonist, who looked yet more tall and burly 
 by the pale morning light than he had seemed the preceding 
 evening; appeared ascending from the precarious bridge beside 
 the torrent, having reached Geierstein by a different route from 
 that pursued by the Englishman. 
 
 The young champion of Berne had hanging along his back 
 one of those huge two-handed swords, the blade of which meas- 
 ured five feet, and which were wielded with both hands. These 
 were almost universally used by the Swiss ; for, besides the inir 
 pression which such weapons were calculated to make upon the^ 
 array of the German men-at-arms, whose armor was impene- 
 trable to lighter swords, they were also well calculated to defend 
 mountain passes, where the great bodily strength and agility of 
 those who bore them enabled the combatants, in spite of their 
 weight and length, to use them with much address and effect. 
 One of these gigantic swords hung round Rudolph Donnerhugel's 
 neck, the point rattling against his heel, and the handle extend- 
 ing itself over his left shoulder, considerably above his head. 
 He carried another in his hand. 
 
 " Thou art punctual," he called out to Arthur Philipson in 
 a voice which was distinctly heard above the roar of the water- 
 fall, which it seemed to rival in sullen force. " But I judged 
 thou wouldst come without a two-handed sword. There is my 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 6 1 
 
 kinsman Ernest's," he said, throwing on the ground the weapon 
 ■whi6h he carried, with the hilt toward the young Englishman. 
 " Look, stranger, that thou disgrace it not, for my kinsman will 
 never forgive nje if thou dost. Or thou mayst have mine if 
 thou likest it better." 
 
 The Englishman looked at the weapon with some surprise, 
 to the use of' which he was totally unaccustomed. 
 
 " The challenger," he said, " in all countries where honoris 
 known, accepts the arms of the challenged." 
 
 " He who fights on a Swiss mountain, fights with a Swiss 
 brand," answered Rudolph. " Think you our hands are made 
 to handle penknives ? "' 
 
 " Nor are ours made to wield scythes," said Arthur ; and 
 muttered betwixt his teeth, as he looked at the sword, which 
 the Swiss continued to offer him — " Usuvi non habeo, I have not 
 proved the weapon." 
 
 " Do you repent the bargain you have made ? " said the 
 Swiss ; " if so, cry craven, and return in safety. Speak plainly, 
 instead of prattling Latin like a clerk or a shaven monk." 
 
 " No, proud man," replied the Englishman, " I a^k thee no 
 forbearance. L thought but of a combat between a shepherd 
 and a giant, in which God gave the victory to him who' had 
 worse odds of weapons than falls to mj lot to-day. I will fight 
 as I stand ; my own good sword shall serve my need now, as it 
 has done before." 
 
 " Content ! — But blame not me who offered the equality of 
 weapons*," said the mountaineer. " And now hear me. This 
 is a fight for life or death — yon waterfall sounds the alarum for 
 our conflict. — Yes, old bellower," he continued, looking back, 
 " it is long since thou hast heard the noise of battle ; — and look 
 at it ere we begin, stranger, for if you fall, I will commit your 
 body to its waters." 
 
 "And if thou fall'st, proud Swiss," answered Arthur, " as 
 well I trust thy presumption leads to destruction, I will have 
 thee buried in the church at Einsiedlen, where the priests shall 
 sing masses for thy soul — thy two-handed sword shall be dis- 
 played above thy grave, and a scroll shall tell the passenger. 
 Here lies a bear's cub of Berne, slain by Arthur the English- 
 man." 
 
 " The stone is not in Switzerland, rocky as it is," said Ru- 
 dolph, scornfully, "that shall bear that inscription. Prepare 
 thyself for battle." 
 
 The Englishman cast a calm and deliberate glance around 
 the scene of action — a courtyard, partly open, partly encum- 
 bered with ruins, in less and larger masses. 
 
62 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " Methinks," said he to himself, " a master of his weapon, 
 with the instruction of Bottaferma of Florence in his remem- 
 brance, a light heart, a good blade, a firm hand, and a just 
 cause, might make up a worse odds than two feet of steel." 
 
 Thinking thus, and imprinting on his mind, as much as the 
 time would permit, every circumstance of the locality around 
 him which promised advantage in the combat, and taking his 
 station in the middle of the courtyard, where the ground was 
 entirely clear, he flung his cloak from him, apd drew his 
 sword. 
 
 Rudolph had first believed that his foreign antagonist was 
 an effeminate youth, who would be swept from before hina at the 
 first flourish of a tremendous weapon. But the firm and watch- 
 ful attitude assumed by the young man, reminded the Swiss of 
 the deficiences of his own unwieldy implement, and made him 
 determined to avoid any precipitation which might give advan- 
 tage to an enemy who seemed both daring and vigilant. He 
 unsheathed his huge sword, by drawing it over the left shoulder, 
 an operation which required some little time, and might have 
 offered formidable advantage, to his antagonist had Arthur's 
 sense of honor , permitted him to begin the attack ere it was 
 completed. The Englishman remained firm, however, until the 
 Swiss, displaying his bright brand to the morning sun, made 
 three or four flfaurishes as if to prove its weight, and the facility 
 with which he wielded it — then stood firm within sword-stroke 
 of his adversary, grasping his weapon with both hands, and 
 advancing it a little before his body, with the blade' pointed 
 straight upward. The Englishman, on the contrary, carried 
 liis sword in one hand, holding it across his face in a horizontal 
 positipn, so as to be at once ready to strike, thrust or parr)'. 
 
 " Strike, Englishman 1 " said the Switzer, after they had con- 
 fronted each other in this manner for about a minute. 
 
 " The longest sword should strike first," said Arthur ; and 
 the words had not left his mouth when the Swiss sword rose, 
 and descended with a rapidity which, the weight and size of the 
 weapon considered, appeared portentous. No parry, however 
 dexterously interposed, could have baffled the ruinous descent 
 of that dreadful weapon, by which the champion of Berne had 
 hoped at once to begin the battle and end it. But young 
 Plulipson had not over-estimated the justice of his own eye, or 
 the activity of his limbs, llwe the blade descended, a sudden 
 spring to one side carried him from beneath its heavy sway^ 
 and before the Swiss could again raise his sword aloft, he 
 received a wound, though a slight one, upon the left arm. 
 Irritated at the failure and at the wound, the Switzer heave4 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 63 
 
 up his sword once more, and availing himself of a strength cor- 
 responding to his size, he discharged toward his adversary a 
 succession of blows, downright, athwart, horizontal, and from 
 left to right, with such surprising strength and velocity, that it 
 required all the address of the young Englishman, by parrying, 
 shifting, eluding, or retreating, to evade a storm, of which every 
 individual blow seemed sufificient to cleave a solid rock. The 
 Englishman was compelled to give ground, now backward, 
 now swerving to thp one side or the other, now availing himself 
 of the fragments of the ruins, but watching all the while, with 
 the utmost composure, the moment when the strength of his 
 enraged enemy might become somewhat exhausted, or when by 
 some improvident or furious blow he might again lay himself 
 open to a close attack. The latter of these advantages had 
 nearly occurred, for in the middle of his headlong charge, the 
 Switzer stumbled over a large stone concealed among the long 
 grass, and ere he could recover himself, received a severe blow 
 across the head from his antagonist. It lighted upon his bon- 
 net, the lining of which enclosed a small steeL cap, so that he 
 escaped unwounded, and springing up, renewed the battle with 
 unabated fury, though it seemed to the young Englishman v/ith 
 breath somewhat short, and blows dealt with more caution., 
 
 They \yere still contending with equal fortune, when a stern 
 voice, rising, over the clash of swords, as well as the roar of 
 waters, called out in a commanding tone, " On vour lives, for- 
 bear ! " 
 
 The two combatants sunk the points of their swords, not 
 very sorry perhaps for the interruption of a strife which must 
 otherwise have had a deadly termination. They looked round, 
 and the Landainman stood before them, with anger frowning 
 on his broad and expressive forehead. 
 
 " How now, boys ? " he said ; " are you guests of Arnold 
 Biederrnan, and do you dishonor his house by acts of violence 
 more becoming the wolves of the mountains, than beings ^o 
 whom the great' Creator, has given a form after his own like- 
 ness, and an immprtal soul, to be'saved by penance and repent- 
 ance ? " 
 
 " Arthur," said the elder Philipson, who had come up at the 
 same time with their host, "what frenzy, is this? Are your 
 duties of so light and heedless a,,^hature, as to give time and 
 place for quarrels and combats with every idle boor who chances 
 to be boastful at once and bull-headed ? " 
 
 The young, men, whose strife had ceased at the entrance of 
 these unexpected spettators, stood looking at each other, and 
 restinar on their swords. 
 
; 64 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " Rudolph Donnerhugel," said the Landamman, " give thy 
 sword to me — to me, the owner of this ground, the master of 
 ■this family, and magistrate of the canton." 
 . " And which'is more," answered Rudolph, submissively, " to 
 you who are Arnold Biedennan, at whose command every 
 native of these mountains draws his sword or sheathes it." 
 
 He gave his two-handed sword-to the Landamman. 
 
 " Now, by my honest word," said Biederihan, " it is the 
 same with wliich thy father Stephen fought so gloriously a't 
 Sempach, abreast with the famous De Winkelried ! Shame, it 
 is, that it should be drawn on a helpless stranger. — And you^ 
 young sir," continued the Swiss, addressing Arthur, while hi^ 
 father said at the same time, " Young man, yielid up your sword 
 tq the Landamman." 
 
 ',' It shall not need, sir," replied the young Englishman, 
 •' since,, for my part, I hold our strife at an end. This gallant 
 gentleman called me hither, on a trial as I conceive, of courage-; 
 I ca:n give my unqualified testimony to his gallantry and sword- 
 manship-, " and as I trust he will say nothing to the shame of 
 my manhdod, I think our strife has lasted long enough for the 
 purpose which gave rise to it." 
 
 "Too long for me," said Rudolph, frankly; "the green 
 sleeve of my doublet, which I wore of that color out of my love 
 to the Forest Cantons, is now stained into as dirty a crimson as' 
 could have been done by any dyer in Ypres or Ghent. But % 
 heartily forgive the brave stranger who has spoiled my jerkin,- 
 and given its master a lesson he will not soon forget. Had all 
 Englishmen been like your guest, worthy kinsman, methinks the 
 mound at Buttisholz had hardly risen so high." 
 
 " Cousin Rudolph," said the L'andarriman, smoothing his- 
 brow as his kinsman spoke, " I have ever thought thee as gen-' 
 erous as thou art harebrained and quarrelsome ; and yoii, my. 
 young guest, may rely, that when a Swiss ^ays the quarrel is 
 over, there is no chance of its being renewed. We are not like 
 the men of the valleys to the eastward, who nurse revenge as if 
 it were a favorite child. And now, join hands, my children, 
 and let us forget this foolish feud." - 
 
 " Here is my hand, brave stranger," said Donnerhugel ; 
 " thou hast taught me a trick of fence, and when we have ' 
 broken our fast, we will, by y^ur leave, to the forest, where I 
 will teach you a trick of woodcraft in return. When your foot 
 hath half the experience of your hand, and your eye hath 
 gained a portion of the steadiness of your heart, you will not 
 find many hunters to match you." 
 
 Arthur, will all the ready confidence of youth, readily em- ■ 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 05 
 
 Ijraced a proposition so frankly made, and before they reached 
 the house, various subjects of sport were eagerly discussed be- 
 tween them, with as much cordiality as if no disturbance of 
 their concord had taken place. 1 
 
 " Now this,". said the Landamman, " is as it should be. I 
 am ever ready to forgive the headlong impetuosity of our youth, 
 if they will be but manly and open in their reconciliation, and 
 bear their heart on their tongue, as a true Swiss should." 
 
 " These two youths had made but \vild work of it, however," 
 said Philipson, " had not yoiir care, my worthy host, learned of 
 their rendezvous, and called me to assist in breaking their pur- 
 pose. May I ask how it came to your knowledge so oppor- 
 tunely ? " 
 
 " It was e'en through means of my domestic fairy," answer- 
 ed Arnold Biedermah, " who seems, born for the good luck of 
 my family, — I mean my niece Anne, who had observed a glove 
 exchanged betwixt the two young braggadocios, and heard 
 them mention Geierstein and break of day. O sir, it is much 
 to see a woman's sharpness of wit ! it would have;, been long 
 enough ere any 6f my thick-beaded sqns had shown themselves, 
 so apprehensive." 
 
 " I think I see our propitious protectress peeping at us from 
 yonder high ground," said Philipson ; " but it seems as. if she 
 would willingly observe us without being seen in return." 
 
 " Ay," said the Landamman, "she has been looking out to 
 see that there has been no hurt done ; and now, I warrant me, 
 the foolish girl is ashamed of having shown such a laudable 
 degree of interest in a matter of the kind." 
 
 " Methinks," sajd the Englishman, " I would willingly return 
 my thanks, in your • presence, to the fair maiden to whom 1 
 have been so highly indebted." 
 
 " There can be no better time than the present," said the 
 Landamman ; and he sent through the groves the rajaiden's 
 name, in one of those shrilly accented tones which we have al-, 
 ready noticed. 
 
 Aime of Geierstein, as Philipson had before observed, was 
 stationed upon a knoll at some distance, and' concea,Ied, as she 
 thought, from notice, by a screen of brushwood. She started ' 
 at her uncle's summons, therefore, but presently obeyed it ; and 
 avoiding the young men, who passed on foremost, she joined 
 the Landamman and Philipson by a circuitous path through the; 
 woods. 
 
 ■ " My worthy friend and guest would speak with you,, Anne," 
 said the Landamman, so soon as the morning greeting had been 
 exchanged. The Swiss maiden colored over brow as well as 
 
66 ANNE OF GEIEKSTEIN. 
 
 cl^eelc, when Philipson, with a grace which seemed beyond his 
 calling, addressed her in these words : — 
 
 " It happens sometimes to us merchants, my fair young 
 friend, that we are unlucky enough not to possess nieans for 
 the instant defraying of our debts ; but he is justly held amongst 
 us as the meanest of mankind who does not acknowledge them. 
 Accept, therefore, the thanks of a father, whose son your 
 courage, only yesterday, saved from destruction, and whom 
 your prudence has, this very mejrning, rescued from a great 
 danger. And grieve me not, by refusing to wear these ear- 
 rings," he added, producing a small jewel-case, which he open- 
 ed as he spoke ; " they are, it is true, only of pearls, but they 
 have not been thought unworthy the ears of a countess " 
 
 " And must, therefore," said the old Landamman, " show 
 misplaced on the person of a Swiss maiden of Unterwalden ; 
 for such and no more is my niece Anne while she resides in my 
 solitude. Methinks, good Master Philipson, you display less 
 than your usual judgment in matching the quality of your gifts 
 with the rank of her on whom they are bestowed — as a mer- 
 chant, too, you should remember that large guerdons will 
 lighten your gains." 
 
 '• Let me crave your pardon, my good host," answered the 
 Englishman, " while I reply, that at least I have consulted ray 
 own sense of the obligation under which I labor, and have 
 chosen, out of what I have at my free disposal, that which I 
 thought might best express it. I trust the host whom I have 
 found hitherto so kind, will not prevent this young maiden from 
 accepting what is at least not unbecoming the rank she is born 
 to; and you will judge me unjustly if you think me capable of 
 doing either myself or you the wrong of Offering any token of 
 a value beyond what I can well spare." The Landamman took 
 ,the jewel-case into his own hand. 
 
 " I have ever set my countenance," he said, " against gaudy 
 gems, which are leading us daily further astray from the sim- 
 plicity of our fathers and mothers. — And yet," he added with a 
 good-humored smile, and holding one of the ear-rings close to 
 his relation's face, " the ornaments do set off the wekch rarely, 
 and they say girls have more pleasure in wearing such toys 
 than gray-haired men can comprehend. Wherefore, dear Anne, 
 as thou hast deserved a dearer trust in a greater matter, I refer 
 thee entirely to thine own wisdom, to accept of our good friend's 
 costly present, ^nd wear it or not as thou thinkest fit." 
 
 " Since such is your pleasure, my best friend and kinsman " 
 Said the young maiden, blushing as she spoke, " I will not o-ive 
 pain to our valued guest, by refusing what he desires so earnestly 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 6y , 
 
 that I should accept ; but, by his leave, good uncle, and yours, 
 I will bestow these splendid ear-rings on the shrine of Our Lady 
 of Einsiedlen, to express our general gratitude to her protecting 
 favor, which has been around us in the terrors of yesterday's 
 storm, and the ala»rms of this morning's discord." ' 
 
 " By Our Lady, the wench speaks sensibly ! " said the Lan- 
 damman;"and her wisdom has applied the bounty well, my 
 good guest, to bespeak prayers for thy family and mine, and 
 for the general peace of Unterwaldeli.-^Go to, Anne^ thou shalt 
 have a necklace of jet at next shearing feast, if our fleeces bear 
 any price in the market." 
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTH. 
 
 Let him who will not proffer'd peace receive, 
 Be sated with the plagues which, war can give ; 
 And well thy hatred of the peace is known, 
 I£ now thy soul reject the friendship shown. 
 
 Hoole's Tasso. 
 
 The fconfidence betwixt the Landamman and the English 
 merchant appeared to increase during the course of a few busy 
 days, which occurred before that appointed for the commence- 
 ment of their journey to the Court of Charles of Burgundy. 
 The state of Europe, and of the Helvetian Confederacy, has 
 been already alluded to ; but, for the distinct explanation of 
 our story, may be here briefly recapitulated. 
 
 In the interval of a week, whilst the English travelers 
 remained at Geierstein, meetings or diets were held, as well of 
 the City Cantons of the Confederacy, as of those of the Forest. 
 The former, aggrieved by the taxes imposed on their com- 
 merce by the Duke of Burgundy, rendered yet more intolerable 
 by the violence of the agents whom he emploj'ed in such oppres- 
 sion, were eager for war, in which they had hitherto uniformly 
 found victory and wealth. Ma»y of them were also privately 
 instigated to' arms by the largesses of Louis XI., who spared 
 neither intrigues nor gold to effect a breach betwixt these daunt- 
 less Confederates and his formidable enemy, Charles the Bold. 
 
 On the Qtherhand, there were n/any reasons which appeared 
 to render it impolitic for the Switzer^ to engage in war with one 
 of the most wealthy, most obstinate, arid most powerful princes 
 in Europe, — for such unquestionably was Charles of Burgundy, 
 . — without the existence of some strong reason affecting their 
 
e^. ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 own honor and independency. Every day brought" fresh intel- 
 ligence from the interior, that Edward the Fourth of England 
 had entered into a strict and intimate alliance, offensive and 
 defensive, with the Duke of Burgundy, and that it was the 
 purpose of the English King, renowned for his numerous 
 victories over the rival House of Lancaster, by which, after 
 various reverses, he had obtained undisputed possession of the 
 throne, to re-assert his claims to those provinces of France, so 
 long held by his ancestors. It seemed as if this alone were 
 ■wanting to his fame ; and that, having subdued his internal 
 enemies, he now turned his eyes to the, regaining of those rich 
 and valuable foreign possessions which had been lost during the 
 administration of the feeble Henry VI., and the civil discords so 
 dreadfully prosecuted in the wars of the White and Red Roses. 
 It was universally known, that throughout England generally the 
 loss of the French provinces was felt as .a national degradation ; 
 and that not only the nobility, who had in consequence been 
 deprived of the large fiefs which they had held in Normandy, 
 Gascony, Maine, and Anjou, but the warlike gentry, accustomed 
 to gain both fame and wealth at the expense of France, and the 
 fiery yeomanry, whose bows had decided so many f^tal battles, 
 were as eager to renew the conflict, as their ancestors of Cressy, 
 Boitiers, and Agincourt, had been to follow their sovereign to 
 the fields of victory, on .which their deeds had conferred death- 
 less renown. 
 
 The latest and most autl<entic intelligence bore, that the 
 !^ing of England was on the point of passing to France in 
 jDerson (an invasion rendered easy by his possession of Calais),^ 
 with an army superior in numbers and discipline to any with 
 vyhich an English monarch had ever before entered that king- 
 dom ; that all the hostile preparations were completed, and 
 that the arrival of Edward might instantly be' expected ; whilst 
 the powerful co-operation of the Duke of Byrgundy, and the 
 assistance of numerous disaffected French noblemen in the 
 provinces which had been so long under the English dominion, 
 threatened a fearful issue of the war to Louis "XI., sagacious, 
 wise, and powerful, as that prince unquestionably was. 
 
 It would no doubt have been the wisest policy of Charles of 
 Burgundy, when thus engaging in an alliance against his most 
 formidable neighbor, and hereditary as well as personal enemy, 
 to have avoided all cause of quarrel with the Helvetian Con- 
 federacy, a poor but most warlike people, who already had been 
 taught by repeated successes to feel that their hardy infantry- 
 could, if necessary, engage, on, terms of equality, or even of 
 advantage, the flower of that chivalry, which had hitherto been 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN 6<f 
 
 considered as forming the strength of European battle. But 
 the measures of Charles, whom fortune had opposed to the most 
 astucious and politic monarch of his time, were always dictated- 
 by passionate feeling and impulse, rather, 'than by a judicious 
 consideration of the circumstances in which he stood. Haughty 
 proud, and uncompromising, though neither destitute of honor 
 nor generosity, he despised and hated what he termed the 
 paltry associations of herdsmen and shepherds, united with a 
 few towns which subsisted chiefly by commerce ; and instead, of? 
 courting the Helvetian Catltons, like his crafty enemy, or at 
 least affording them no ostensible pretence of quarrel, he omitted 
 1)0 opportunity of showing the disregard and contempt in which' 
 he held their upstart consequence, and of evincing the secret 
 longing which he entertained to take vengeance upon them for 
 the quantity of noble blood which they had shed, and- to com- 
 pensate the repeated successes they had gained over the feudal 
 lords of whom he imagined himself the destined avenger. 
 
 The Duke of Burgundy's possessions in the Alsatian territory 
 afforded him many opportilnities of wreaking his displeasure' 
 upon the Swiss League. The little castle and town of Ferette, - 
 lying within ten or eleven miles of Bile, served as a thorough-' 
 fare to the traffic of Berne and Sbleure, the two principal towns 
 of the Confederation. In this place the 'Duke posted a gover- 
 nor, or seneschal, who was also an administrator of the revenue, 
 and seemed born on purpose to be the plague and scourge of his 
 republican neighbors. 
 
 Archibald von Hageiibkch was a German noble, whose 
 possessions lay in Swabia, and was universally esteemed one of 
 the fiercest and most lawless of that frontier nobility, known by 
 the name of Robber-knights and Robber-counts. These digni- 
 taries, because they held their fiefs of the Holy Roman Empire, 
 claimed as complete sovereignty within their territories of a mile 
 square, as any reigning prince of Germany in his more extended 
 dominions. They levied tolls and taxes on strangers, and im- 
 prisoned, tried, and executed those who, as they alleged, had 
 committed offences within their petty domains. But especialh'j 
 and in further exercise of their seignorial privileges, they made- 
 war on each other, and on the Free Cities of the Empire, attack- 
 ing and plundering without mercy the caravans, br large traihs 
 of waggons, by which the internal commerce of Germany was 
 carried on. i 
 
 A succession of injuries done and received by Archibald of 
 Hagenbach, who had been one of the fiercest sticklers for 
 this pri\-i!ege of faustrecht, or club-law, as it may be termed, 
 "had ended' in his being obliged, though soniewhat advanced iri 
 
70 
 
 ANNE OF GEJERSTEJN. 
 
 life, to leave a country where his tenure of existence was become, 
 extremely precarious, and to engag^in the service of the Duke 
 of Burgundy, who willingly employed him, as he was a man of 
 high descent and proved valor, and not the less, perhaps, that 
 he was sure to find in a man of Hagenbach's fierce, rapacious,; 
 and haughty disposition, the unscrupulous executioner of what- 
 soever severities it might be his master's pleasure to enjoin. 
 
 The traders of Berne and Sdleure, accordingly, made loud 
 and violent complaints of Hagenbach's exactions. The im- 
 positions laid on commodities which passed through his district 
 of La Ferette, to whatever place they might be ultimately bound, 
 were arbitrarily increased, and the merchants and traders who 
 hesitated to make instant payment of what was demanded, were 
 exposed to imprisonment and personal punishment. The com- 
 mercial towns of Germany appealed to the Duke against this 
 iniquitous conduct on the part of the Governor of La Ferrette, 
 and requested of his Grace's goodness that he would withdraw 
 Von Hagenbach from their neighborhood ; but the Duke treated 
 their complaint with contempt. The Swiss League carried 
 their remonstrances higher, and required that justice should be 
 done on the Governor of La Ferette, as having offended against 
 the law of nations ; but they were equally unable to attact atten- 
 tion or obtain redress.- 
 
 At length the Diet of the Confederation determined to send 
 the solemn deputation which has been repeatedly mentioned^ 
 One or two of these envoys joined with the calm and prudent 
 Arnold Biederman, in the hope that so solemn a measure might 
 open the eyes of the Duke to the wicked injustice of his repre- 
 sentative ; others among the deputies, having no such peaceful 
 views, were determined, by this resolute remonstrance, to pave 
 the way for hostilities. 
 
 Arnold Biederman was an especial advocate for peace, while 
 its preservation was compatible with national independence, and 
 the honor of- the Confederacy ; but the younger Philipson soon 
 discovered that the Landamman alone, of all his family cherished 
 these moderate views. The opinion of his sons had been swayed 
 and seduced by the impetuous eloquence and overbearing in- 
 fluence of Rudolph of Donnerl^ugel, who, by some feats of pecul- 
 iar gallantry, and the considerationdue to the merits of his an- 
 cestors, had acquired an influence in the councils of his native 
 canton, and with the youth of the League in general, beyond what 
 •was usually yielded by these wise republicans to men of his 
 early age. Arthur, who was now an acceptable and welcome 
 companion of all their hunting parties and other sports, heard 
 pothing among the youngmen but anticipations of war, rendered 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 71 
 
 aelightful by the hopes of booty and of distinction, which were 
 to be obtained by the Switzers. The feats of their ancestors 
 against the Germans had been so wonderful as to realize the 
 fabulous victories of romance ; and while the present race 
 possessed the same hardy limbs, and the same inflexible courage, 
 they eagerly anticipated the same distinguished success. When 
 the Governor of La Ferette was mentioned in the conversation, 
 he was usually spoken of as the bandog of Burgundy, or the 
 Alsatian mastiff ; and intimations were openly given, that if his 
 course were not instantly checked by his master, and he himself 
 withdrawn from the frontiers of Switzerland, Archibald of 
 Hagenbach would find his fortress no protection from the 
 awakened indignation of the wronged inhabitants of Soleure, and 
 particularly of those of Berne. 
 
 This general disposition to war among the young Switzers 
 was reported to the elder Philipson by his son, and led him at 
 one time to hesitate whether he ought not rather to resume all 
 the inconveniences and dangers of a journey, accompanied only 
 by Arthur, than run the risk of the quarrels in which he might 
 be involved by the unruly conduct of these fierce mountain 
 youths, after they should have left their own frontiers. Such 
 an event would have had, in a peculiar degree, the effect of 
 destroying every purpose of his journey ; but l-espected as Arnold 
 Biederman was by his family and countrymen the English mer- 
 chant concluded, upon the whole, that his influence would be 
 able to restrain his companions until the great question of peace 
 or war should be determined, and especially until they should 
 have discharged their commission by obtaining an audience of 
 the Duke of Burgundy, and after this he should be separated from 
 their society, and not liable to be engaged in any responsi- 
 bility for their ulterior measures. 
 
 After a delay of about ten days, the deputation commissioned 
 to remonstrate with the Duke on the aggressions and exactions 
 of Archibald of Hagenbach, at length assembled at Geirstein, 
 from whence the members were to journey forth together. 
 They were three in number, besides the young Bernese, and 
 the Landamman of Unterwalden. One was, like Arnold, a 
 proprietor from the Forest Cantons, wearing a dress scarcely 
 handsomer than that of a common herdsman, but distinguished 
 by the beauty and size of his long silvery beard. His name was 
 Nicholas Bonstetten. Melchior Sturmthal, banner-bearer of 
 Berne, a man of middle age, and a soldier of distinguished' 
 courage, with Adam Zimmerman, a burgess of Soleure, who was 
 considerably older, completed the number of the envoys. 
 
 Each was dressed after his best fashion ; but notwithstanding 
 
72 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 that the severe eye of Arnold Biederman censured one or two. 
 silver belt-buckles, as well as a chain of the sarne metal, which 
 decorated the portly person of the burgess of soleure, it seemecC 
 that a powerful and, victorious peqple, for such the Swiss were 
 now to be esteemed, were never represented by an embassy of 
 such patriarchal simplicity. The deputies traveled on foot, with 
 their piked staves in their hands, like pilgrims bound for some 
 place of devotion. Two mules, which bore their little stock 
 of baggage, were led by young lads, sons or cousins of members 
 of the embassy, who bad obtaiijed permission, in this manner, 
 to get such a glance of the world beyond the mountains as this 
 journey promised to afford. 
 ' ,; But although their retinue was small, so far as respected 
 either state or personal attendance and accommodation, the 
 dangerous circumstances of the times, and the very unsettled 
 ■state of the cquntry beyond their own territories, did not permit 
 men charged with affairs of such importance to travel without a 
 guard. Even the danger arising from the wolves, which when, 
 pinched by the approach of winter, have been known to descend 
 from their mountain fastnesses into open villages, such as those 
 fhe travelers might choose to quarter in, rendered the presence 
 of some escort necessary ; and the bands of deserters from 
 various services, who formed parties of banditti on the frontiers 
 of Alsatia and Germany, combined to recommend such a 
 precaution. 
 
 Accordingly, about twenty of the selected youth from the 
 various Swiss cantons, including Rudiger, Ernest, and Sigis- 
 mund, Arnold's three eldest sons, attended upon the deputa- 
 tion ; they did not, however observe any military ordar, or 
 march close or near to the patriarchal train. On the contrary, 
 they formed hunting parties of five or six together, who ex- 
 plored the rocks, woods, and passes of the mountains, throilgh 
 which the envoys journeyed.. • Their slower pace allowed the 
 active young men, who were accompanied by their large shaggy 
 ^cgs, full time to destroy wolves and bears, or occasionally to 
 surprise a chamois among the cliffs ; while the hunters, even 
 while in pursuit of. their sport, were careful to examine such 
 places as might afford opportijnity for ambush, and thus ascer- 
 tained the safety of the party , whom they escorted mor< 
 securely than if they had attended close on their train. A pe 
 Suliar note on the huge Swiss bugle,, before described, formed 
 of the horn of Jhe mountaiijrbull, ,was the signal agreed upon 
 for collecting in a body should danger occur. Rudolph Dop- 
 nerhugel, so much younger th^n his brethren in t^ie same im- 
 portant commission, took the command of this mountain bodv- 
 
ANNE OF GErERSTEIN. J^ 
 
 guard, whom he usually accdinpanied in their sportive excur- 
 sions. In point of arms they were well provided, bearing two- 
 handed swords, long partisans and spears, as well as both cross 
 and long bows, short cutlasses, and huntsmen's knives. The 
 heavier weapons, as impeding their activity, were carried with 
 the baggage, but were ready to be assiimed on the slightest 
 alarm. 
 
 Arthur Philipson, like his late antagonist, naturally pre- 
 ferred the Company and sports of the young men, to the 
 grave conversation and slow pace of the fathers of the moun- 
 tain commonwealth. There was, however, one temptation to 
 loiter with the baggage^ which, had other circumstances per- 
 mitted, might have reconciled the young Englishman to forego 
 the opportunities' of sport which the Swiss youth so eagerly 
 sought after, and endure the slow pace and grave conversation 
 of the elders of the party. In a word, Anne of Geierstein, accom- 
 panied by a Swiss girl her attendant, traveled in the rear of 
 the deputation. . 
 
 The two females were mounted upon asses, whose slow 
 step hardly kept pace with the baggage mules ; and it may be 
 fairly suspected that Arthur Philipson, in requital of the im- 
 portant services which he had received from that beautiful and 
 interesting young woman^ would have deemed it no extreme . 
 hardship to have afforded her occasionally his assistance on 
 the journey, and the' advantage of his conversation to relieve 
 the tediousness of the way. But he dared not presume to offer 
 attentions which the customs .of the country did not seem to 
 permit, since they were not attenipted by any of the maiden's 
 cousins, or even by Rudolph' Donnerhugel, who certainly had 
 hitherto appeared to neglect no opportunity to recommend him- 
 self to his fkir cousin. Besides, 'Arthur had reflection enough 
 to be convinced, that in yielding to the feelings which impel- 
 led him to cultivate the acquaintance of this amiable young per- 
 son, he vvould certainly incur the serious displeasure of his father, 
 and probably also that of her uncle, by whose hospitality they 
 had profited, and whose safe-conduct they were in the act of en- 
 joying. 
 
 The young Englishman, therefore, pursited the same 
 amusements which interested the other young men of the 
 party, managing only, as frequently as their halts perriiitted, to 
 venture upon offering to the maiden such marks of courtesy as 
 could afford no room for remark or censure. And his charac- 
 ter as a sportsman being now well established, he sometimes 
 permitted himself, even when the game was afoot, to loiter in 
 the vicinity of the path, on which he could at least mark the 
 
j^ ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 flutter of the gray wimple of Anne of Geierstein, and the out-, 
 line of the form which it shrouded. This indolence, as it 
 seemed, was not unfavorably construed by his companions, be- 
 ifig only accounted an' indifference to the less noble or less dai> 
 gerous game ; for when the object was a bear, wolf, or other ani- 
 mal of prey, no spear, cutlass, or bow of the party, not even 
 those of Rudolph Donnerhugel, were so prompt in the chase as 
 those of the young Englishman. 
 
 Meantime, the elder Philipson had other and more serious 
 subjects of consideration. He was a man, as the reader must 
 have already seen, of much acquaintance with the world, in 
 which he had acted parts different from that which he now sus- 
 tained. Former feelings were recalled and awakened, by the 
 view of sports familiar to his early years. The clamor of the 
 hounds, echoing from the wild hills and dark forests through, 
 which they traveled ; the sight of the gallant young huntsmen, 
 appea.ring, as they brought the object of their chase to bay, 
 amid airy cliffs and profound precipices, which seemed imper- 
 vious to the human foot ; the sounds of halloo and horn rever- 
 berating from hill to hill, had more than once well-nigh im- 
 pelled him to take a share in the hazardous bu;: animating 
 amusement, which, next to war was then in most parts of 
 Europe the most serious occupation of life. But the feelipg Was 
 transient, and he became yet more deeply interested in studying 
 the manners and opinions of the persons with whom he was 
 traveling. 
 
 They seemed to be all ^colored with the same downright 
 and blunt simplicity which characterized Arnold Biederman, 
 although it was in none of them elevated by the same dignity 
 of thought or profound sagacity. In speaking of the political 
 state of their country, they affected no secrecy ; and although, 
 with the exception of Rudolph, their own young men were not 
 admitted into their councils, the exclusion seemed only adopted 
 with a view to the necessary subordination of youth to age, 
 and not for the purpose' of qbserving any njystery. In the 
 presence of the elder Philipson, they freely discussed the pre- 
 tensions of the Duke of Burgundy, the means which their coun- 
 try possessed of maintaining her independence, and the firm 
 resolution of the Helvetian League to bid defiance to the ut- 
 most force the world could bring against it, rather than submit 
 to the slightest insult. In other respects, their views appeared 
 wise and moderate, although the Bannaret of Berne, and the 
 consequential Burgher of Soleure, seemed to -hold the conse- 
 quences of war more lightly than they were viewed by the 
 cautioiis Landamman of Unterwalden, and his venerable com- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. ' y^ 
 
 panion, Nicholas Bonstetten, who subscribed to all his opin- 
 ions. 
 
 It frequently, happened, that, quitting these subjects, the 
 conversation turned on. such as were less attractive to their 
 fellow-traveler. The signs of the weather, the comparative 
 fertility of recent seasons, the ipost advantageous mode of 
 managing their orchards and rearing their crops, though inter- 
 esting to the mountaineers themselves, gave Philipson slender 
 amusement ; and notwithstanding that the excellent Meinherr 
 Zimmerman of Soleure would fain have joined with him in con- 
 versation respecting trade and merchandise, yet the Englishman, 
 who dealt in articles of small bulk and considerable value, and 
 traversed sea and land to carry on his traffic, could find few 
 mutual topics'to discuss with the Swiss trader, whose commerce 
 only extended into the neighboring districts of Burgundy and 
 Germany, and whose goods consisted of coarse woolen cldths, 
 fustian, hides, peltry, and such ordinary articles. 
 
 But, ever and anon, while the Switzers were discussing 
 some paltry interests of trade, or describing some process of 
 rude cultivation, or speaking of blights in grain, and the mur- 
 rain amongst the cattle, with all the dull minuteness of petty 
 farmers and traders . met at a country fair, a well-known spot 
 would recall the name and story of a battle in which some of 
 them had served (for there were none of the party who had not 
 been repeatedly in arras), and the military details, which in 
 other countries were only the theme of knights and squires who 
 had acted their part in them, or of learned clerks who labored 
 to record them, were, in this singular region, the familiar and 
 intimate subjects of discussion with men whose peaceful occu- 
 pations seemed to place them at an immeasurable distance 
 from the profession of a soldier. This led the Englishman to 
 think of the ancient inhabitants of Rome, where the plough 
 was so readpjy exchanged for the sword, ancf the cultivation of 
 a rude farm for the management of public affairs. He hinted 
 this resemblance to the Landamman, who was naturally grati- 
 fied with the compliment to his country, but presently replied, 
 — " May Heaven continue among us the homebred virtues of 
 the Romans, and preserve us from their lust of- conquest and 
 love of foreign luxuries ! " 
 
 The slow pace of the travelers, with various causes of delay 
 which it is unnecessary to dwell upon, occasioned the deputa- 
 tion spending two nights on the road before they reached Bale. 
 The small towns or villages in which they quartered, received 
 them with such marks of respectful hospitality as they had the 
 means to bestow, and their arrival was a signal for a little feast, 
 
•jd ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 with which the heads of the community uniformly regaled 
 them. , , : 
 
 On such occasions, while the elders of the village enter- 
 tained the deputies of the Confederation, the yoiing men of the 
 escort were provided for tjy those of their own age, several of 
 whom, usually aware of their approach, were accustomed to join 
 in the cha:se of the day, and made the strangers acquainted with 
 the spots where game Was most plenty. 
 
 These feasts were never prolonged to excess, and the most 
 special dainties which composed thein were kids, lambs, apd 
 game, the produce of the mountains. Yet it seemed both to. 
 Arthur Philipson and his , father, that the advantages of good 
 cheer were more prized by the Banneret, of Berne and the 
 Burgess of Soleure, than by their host the Landamman, and 
 the IDeputy of Schwytz. There was no excess committecl, as 
 we have already said; but the depiities first mentioned, obvi- 
 ously understood the art of selecting the choicest morsels, arid 
 were connoisseurs in the good wine, chiefly of foreign growth. 
 With which they freely washed it down. Arnold was too wise 
 to censure what he had no means of amending; he contented 
 himself by observing in his own person a rigorous diet, living 
 indeed almost entirelyupon vegetables and fair water, in which 
 he was closely imitated by the old gray-bearded Nicholas Bon- 
 stetten, who seemed to make it his principal object to follow 
 the Landamman's example in everything. 
 
 It was, as we have already said, the third day after the 
 commencement of their journey, before the Swiss deputation 
 reached the vicinity of Bale, in which city, then one of the 
 largest in the south-western extremity of Germany, they pro- 
 posed taking up their, abode for the evening, nothing doubting 
 a friendly reception. The town, it is true, was not then, nor 
 till about thirty )«ears afterward, a part of the Swiss Con- 
 federation, to which it was only joined in 1501 ; but it was a 
 Free Imperial Cit}', connected with iBerne, Soleure, Lucerne, 
 and other towns of Switzerland, by mutual interests and con- 
 stant intercourse. It was the object of the deputation to 
 negotiate, if possible, a peace, which could not be more useful 
 to themselves than to the city of BS.le, considering the inter- 
 ruptions of commerce which must be occasioned by a rupture 
 between the Duke of Burgundy and the Caiitons, and the 
 great aclvantage which that city would derive by preserving, a 
 neutrality, situated as it was betwixt these two hostile powers. 
 They anticipated, therefore, as welcome a reception from the 
 authorities of Bile, as they had received while in the bounds 
 of their own Confederation, since the interests of that "city 
 
ANNE, aF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 77 
 
 were so deeply concerned in the objects of their ntission. — • 
 The next chapter will show how far these eixpeetations were 
 realized. 
 
 CHAPTER EIGHTH. 
 
 They saw that city, welcoming the Rhine, 
 As from his mountain heritage he bursts, 
 As purposed proud Orgetbrijf of yore, 
 Leaving the desert region of, the hiMs, 
 To lord it o'er the fertile plains of Gaul. 
 
 Helvetia. 
 
 The eyes of the English travelers, wearied with a succession 
 of wild, mountainous scenery, now gazed with pleasure upon a 
 country still indeed irregular and hilly in its surface, but capable 
 of high cultivation, and adorned with corn-fields and vineyards. 
 The Rhine a broad and large river, poured its gray stream in 
 a huge sweep through the landscape, and divided into two 
 portions the city of BS,le, which is situated on its banks. The 
 southern part, to which the path of the Svviss deputies con- 
 ducted them, displayed the celebrated cathedral,, and ,the loftv 
 terrace which runs in front of it, and seemed to remind the 
 travelers that they how approached a country in which the 
 operations of man could make themselves distinguished even 
 a.mong the works of nature, instead of being lost, as the fate 
 of the most splendid efforts of human labor must have been, 
 among those tremendous mountains which they had so lately 
 traversed. 
 
 They were yet, a mile from the entrance of the city, when 
 the party was met by one of the magistrates, attended by two 
 or three citizens mounted on mules, the velvet housings of 
 which expressed wealth and quality. They greeted the Lan- 
 damman of Unterwalden and his party in a respectful manner, 
 and the latter, prepared themselves to hear, and. Riake a suitable 
 reply to, the hospitable invitation which they naturally expected 
 to receive. 
 
 The message of the community of Bale was, however, diamet- 
 rically opposite, to what- they had anticipated.,' It was deJiv;- 
 ered with , a good deal, of diffidence and hesitation by' tjie 
 functionary who met them, and who certainly, while discharging^ 
 his commission, did not appear to consider it as the most* 
 respectable which he > might have borne. , There, were many 
 professionsof , the most profound and fraternal regard for the 
 cities of the Helvetian ' League, with whom Th? prator of Btle 
 
y8 ANNE OF GEIERST^IN. 
 
 declared his own State to be united in friendship and interests. 
 But he ended by intimating, that, on account of certain cogent 
 and weighty reasons, which sliould be satisfactorily explained at 
 more leisure, the free city of Bale could not, this evening, 
 receive within its walls the highly respected deputies; who 
 where traveling at the command of the Helvetian Diet, to the 
 court of the Duke of Burgundy. 
 
 Philipson marked with much interest the effect which this 
 most unexpected intimation produced on the members of 
 the embassage. Rudolph Donnerhugel, who had joined their 
 company as they approached Bale, appeared less surprised than 
 his associates, and, while he remained perfectly silent, seemed 
 rather anxious to penetrate their septiments, than disposed to 
 express his own. It was not the first time the sagacious mer- 
 chant had observed that this bold and fiery young man could, 
 ■when his purposes required it, place a strong constraint upon 
 the natural impetuosity of his temper. For the others, the 
 Banneret's brow darkened ; the face of the Burgess of Soleure 
 became flushed like the moon when rising in the north-west ; 
 the grey-bearded deputy of Schwytz looked anxiously on 
 Arnold Biederman ; and the Landamman himself seemed more 
 moved than was usual in a person of his equanimity. At 
 length, he replied to the functionary of Bile, in a voice some- 
 what altered by his feelings : — 
 
 " This is a singular message to the Deputies of the Swiss 
 Confederacy, bound as we are upon an amicable mission, on 
 ■which depends the interest of the good citizens of Bile, whom 
 we have always treated as our good friends, and who still pro- 
 fess to \t^ 0. The shelter of their roofs, the protection of 
 their w*alls, the •wonted intercourse of hospitality, is what no 
 friendly State hath a right to refuse to the inhabitants of 
 another." 
 
 " Nor is it with their will that the community of Bile refuse 
 it, worthy Landamman," replied the magistrate. " Not you 
 alone, and your worthy associates, but your escort, and your 
 very iieasts of burden, should be entertained with all the kind- 
 ness which the citizens of BS.le could bestow — But we act- 
 under constraint." 
 
 " And by whom ex._rcised ? " said the Banneret, bursting 
 out into passion. "Has the Emperor Sigismund profited so 
 , little by the example of his predecessors " 
 
 " The Emperor," replied the delegate of Bile, interrupting 
 the Banneret, " is a well-intentioned and peaceful monarch, as 
 he .has been ever'; but — there are Burgundian troops, of late, 
 
ANNE OF CEIERSTEIN. yg 
 
 marched into the Sundgaw, and messages have been sent to 
 our State from Count Archibald of Hagenbach." 
 
 " Enough said," replied the Landamman. " Draw not fur- 
 ther the veil from'a weakness for which you blush. I compre- 
 hend you entirely. B^le'lies too near the citadel of LaFerette 
 to permit its citizens to consult their own inclinations'. — ■ 
 Brother, we see where your difficulty lies — we pity you — and 
 we forgive your inhospitality." 
 
 " " Nay, but hear me to an end, worthy Landamman," an- 
 swered the magistrate. "There is here in the vicinity an old 
 hunting-seat of the Counts of Falkenstein, called Graffs-lust,* 
 which, though ruinous, yet may afford better lodgings than the 
 open air, and is capable of some defence— -though Heaven 
 forbid that any one should dare to intrude upon your repose ! 
 And hark ye hither, my worthy friends ; — if you find in the old 
 place some refreshment, as wine, beer, and the like, use them 
 without scruple, for they are there for your accommodation." 
 
 "I do not refuse to occupy a place of security," said the 
 Landamman; "for although the causing us to be excluded 
 from Bale may be only done in the spirit of petty insolence 
 and malice, yet it may also, for what we'caii tell, be connected 
 with some purpose of violence. Your provisions we thank you 
 for; but we will not, with my consent, feed at the cost of 
 friends who are ashamed to own us unless by stealth." 
 
 "One thing more, my worthy sir," said the official of Bale 
 — "You have a maiden in company, who, I presume to think, 
 is your daughter. There is but rough accommodation where 
 ■you are going, even for men ; — for women there is little better, 
 though what we could we have done to arrange matters as 
 well as may be. But rather let your daughter go with us back 
 to B&le, where my dame will be a mother to her till next morn- 
 ing, when I will bring her to your camp in safety. We promised 
 to shut our gates against the men of the Confederacy, but the 
 women were not mentioned." 
 
 "You are subtle casuists, you men of Bdle." answered the 
 Landamman; "but know, that from the time in which the 
 Helvetians sallied forth to encounter Ca2sar down to the 
 present hour, the women of Switzerland, in, the press of danger, 
 have had their abode in the camp of their fathers, brothers, 
 and husbands, and sought no further safety than they might 
 find in the courage of their relations. We have enough of men 
 to protect our women, and my niece shall remain with us, and 
 take the fate which Heaven may send us." 
 
 » Graffs-lust— «.?., Count's-delighl. 
 
go ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " Adieu, then, worthy friend," said the magistrate of B^Ig^ 
 " it grieves me to part with you thus, but e-vfil fate will hav^ 
 it so. Yonder grassy avenue will conduct you to the old 
 hunting-seat, where Heaven send that you may pass a quiei 
 .night ; for, apart from other risks, men say that these ruins 
 .have no good name. Will you yet permit your niece, since 
 such the young person is, to pass to Bile for the night in my 
 company ? " 
 
 " If we are disturbed by beings like ourselves," said Arnold 
 Beiderman, " we have strong arms, and heavy pairtisans ; if 
 we should be visited, as your words would imply, by those of a 
 different description, we have, or should have, good consciences, 
 and confidence in Heaven. — Good friends, my brethren on this 
 embassy, have I, spoken your sentiments as well as mine own ? " 
 
 The other deputies intimated their assent- to what thqir 
 .companion had said, and the citizens of Bile took a courteous 
 farewell of their .guests, endeavoring, by the excess of civility, 
 .to atone for their deficiency in effective hospitality. After their 
 departure, Rudolph was the first^ to express his sense of their 
 pusillanimous behavior, on which he had been silent during 
 their presence. " Coward dogs ! " he said ; " may the Butcher 
 of Burgundy flay the very skins from them with his exactions, 
 ;,to teach them to disown old friendships, rather than abide the 
 lightest blast of a tyrant's anger! " 
 
 " And not even their own tyrant either," said another of the 
 group, — for several of the young men had gatheired round their 
 seniors, to hear the welcome which they expected from the 
 magistrates of Bile. 
 
 " No," replied Ernest, one of Arnold Biederman's sons, 
 " they do not pretend that their own prince the Emperor hath 
 interfered with them ; but a word of the Duke of Burgundy, 
 which should be no more to them than a breath of wind from 
 .■the west, is sufficient to stir them to such brutal inhospitality. 
 It were well to march to the city, and compel them at the 
 .sword's point to give us shelter." 
 
 A murmur of applause arose amongst the youth around, 
 which awakened the displeasure of Arnold Biederman. 
 
 "Did I hear," he said, "the tongue of a son of mine, or 
 was it that of a brutish L,anz-],4necht,* who has no pleasure but 
 in battle or violence ? Where is the modesty of the youth of 
 .Switzerland, who were wont to wait the signal for actioii' till it 
 ,pleased the elders of the canton to give it, and were as gentle 
 
 * A private soldier of the German infantry. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEm-. %^ 
 
 as maidens till the voice of their patriarchs bade them be bold 
 as lions ? " 
 
 " I meant no harm,, father," said Ernest, abashed with this 
 rebuke, "far less any slight toward you'; but I must needs 
 say " 
 
 " Say not a word, my son," replied Arnold, "but leave our 
 camp to-morrow by break of day ; and, as thou takest thy way 
 back to Geierstein, to which I command thine instant return, 
 remember, that he is not fit to visit strange countries, who can- 
 not rule his tongue before his own countrymen, and to his own 
 father." 
 
 The Banneret of Berne, the Burgess of Soleure, even the 
 long-beiarded Deputy from Schwytz, endeavored to intercede 
 for the offender, and obtain a remission of his banishment ; but 
 it was in vain." 
 
 " No, my good friends and brethren, no," replied Arnold. 
 "These young men require an example; and though I am 
 grieved in one sense that the offence has chanced within my 
 own family, yet I am pleased in another light, that the delin- 
 quent should be one over whom I can exercise full authority, 
 'without suspicion or partiality. — Ernest, my son, thou hast 
 heard my commands : Return to Geierstein with the morning's 
 light, and let me find thee an altered man when I return 
 thither." 
 
 The young Swiss, who was evidently much hurt and shocked 
 at this public affront, placed one knee on the ground, and 
 kissed his father's right hand, while Arnold, without the slight- 
 est sign of anger, bestowed his blessing upori him ; and Ernest, 
 without a word of remonstrance, fell into the rear of the party. 
 The deputation then proceeded down the avenue which had 
 been pointed but to them, and at the bottom of which arose the 
 massy ruins of Graffs-lust; but there was not enough of day- 
 light remaining to discern their exact form. They could ob- 
 serve as they drew nearer, and as the night became darker, 
 that three or four windows were lighted up, while the rest of 
 the front remained obscured in gloom. When they arrived at 
 the place, they perceived it was surrounded by a large and deep 
 moat, the sullen surface of which reflected, though faintly, the 
 glimmer of the lights within. 
 
82 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 CHAPTER NINTH. 
 
 Francisco. — Give you good-night. 
 Marcellus. — O, farewell, honest soldier. 
 
 Who hath relieved you ? 
 Francisco. — Give you good-night; Bernardo hath my place. . ' 
 
 Hamlet. - 
 
 The first occupation of our travelers was to fine the means 
 of crossing the moat ; and they were not long of discovering the/ 
 tHe-du-pont on which the drawbridge, when lowered, had form- 
 erly rested. The bridge itself had been long decayed, but a 
 temporary passage of fir-trees and planks had been construct- : 
 ed, apparently very lately, which adnjitted them to the chief 
 entrance of the castle. On entering it, they found, a wicket 
 opening under the archwaj^ which, glimmering with light,' 
 served to guide them to a hall prepared evidently for theijr 
 acqomniodation as well as circumstances had admitted of. 
 
 A large fire of well-seasoned wood burned blithely in the 
 chimney, and had been maintained so long there that the air of 
 the hall, notwithstanding its great size and somewhat ruinous 
 aspect, felt mild and genial. There was also at the end of the 
 apartment a stack of wood, large enough to maintain the fire 
 had they been to remain there a week. Two or three long 
 tabl,es in the hall stood covered and ready for their reception ; 
 and, on looking more closely, several large hampefs were 
 found in a corner, containing cold provisions of every kind, pre- 
 pared with great care, for their immediate use. The eyes of the 
 good Burgess of Soleure twinkled when he beheld the young 
 men in the act of transferring the supper from the hampers, 
 and arranging it on the table. 
 
 "Well," said he, " these poor men of Bile have saved their 
 character ; since, if they have fallen short in welcome, they have 
 abounded in good cheer." 
 
 "Ah, friend ! " said Arnold Biederman, " the absence of the 
 landlord is a great deduction from the entertainment. Better 
 half an appl6 from the hand of your host than a bridal feast 
 without his company." 
 
 " We owe them the less for their banquet," said the Ban- 
 neret. " But from the doubtful language they held, I should 
 judge it meet to keep a strong guard to-night, and even that 
 some of our young men should, from time to time, patrol 
 around the old ruins. The place is strong and defensible, and 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 83 
 
 SO far our thanks are due to those who have acted as our 
 quarter-masters. We will, however, with your permission, my 
 honored brethren, examine the house within, and then arrange 
 regular guards and patrols. — To your duty then, young men, 
 and search these ruins carefully, — they may, perchance, con- 
 tain more than, ourselves ; for we are now near one who, like a 
 pilfering fox, moves more willingly by night than by day, and 
 seeks his prey amidst ruins and wildernesses rather than in the 
 open field." 
 
 , All agreed to this proposal. The young men took torches, 
 of which a good provision had been left for their use, and made 
 a strict search through the ruins. 
 
 The greater part of the castle was much njore wasted and 
 ruinous than the portion which the citizens of Bdle seemed to 
 have destined for the accomrnodation of the embassy. Some 
 parts were roofless, and the whole desolate. The glare of light 
 — the gleam of arms^ — the sound of the human voice, and echoes 
 of mortal tread, startled from their dark recesses bats, owls, and 
 other birds of ill omen, the usual inhabitants of such time-worn 
 edifices, whose flight through the desolate chambers repeatedly 
 occasioned alarm amongst those who heard the noise without 
 seeing the cause, and shouts of laughter when it became known. 
 They discovered that the deep moat surrounded their place of 
 retreat on all sides, and of course that they were in safety 
 against any attack which could be made from without, except 
 it was attempted by the main entrance, which it was easy to 
 barricade, and guard with sentinels. They also ascertained by 
 strict search, that though it was possible an individual might 
 be concealed amid such a waste of ruins, yet it was altogether 
 impossible that any number which might be formidable to so 
 large a party as their own, could have remained there without 
 a certainty of discovery. These particulars were reported to 
 the Banneret, who directed Donnerhugel to take charge of a 
 body of six of the young men, such as he should himself choose, 
 to patrol on the outside of the building till the first cock-crowing, 
 and at that hour to return to the castle, when the same number 
 were to take the duty till, morning dawned, and then be relieved 
 in their turn. Rudolph declared his own intention to remain on 
 guard the whole night ; and as he was equally remarkable for 
 vigilance as for strength and courage, the external watch was 
 considered as safely provided for, it being settled that, in case 
 of any sudden rencounter, the deep and hoarse sound of the 
 Swiss bugle should be the signal for sending , support to the 
 patroling party. 
 
 Within side the castle, the precautions were taken with equal 
 
^4 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 vigilance. A sentinel, to be relieved every two hours', was 
 appointed to take post at tlie principal gate, and other two kept 
 watch on the other side of the castle, although the moat ap- 
 peared to insure safety in that quarter. 
 
 These precautions being taken, the remainder of the party 
 sat down to refresh themselves, the deputies occupying the upper 
 part of the hall, while those of their- escort modestly arranged 
 themselves in the lower end of the same large apartment. 
 Quantities of hay and straw, which were left piled in the wide 
 castle, were put to the purpose for which undoubtedly they had 
 been destined by the citizens of BS,!e, and, with the -aid of cloaks 
 and mantles, were judged excellent good bedding by a hardy 
 race, who, in war or the chase, were often well satisfied with a 
 much worse night's lair. 
 
 The attention of the Bdlese had even gone so far as to provide 
 for Anne of Geierstein separate accommodation, more suitable to 
 her use than that assigned to the men of the party. An apart- 
 ment, which had probably been the buttery of the castle, entered 
 from the hall, and had also a doorway leading out into a passage 
 connected with the ruins ; but this last had hastily, yet carefully, 
 been built up with large hewn stones taken from the ruins ; 
 without mortar, indeed, or any other cement, but so well secured 
 by their own weight, that an attempt to displace them must 
 have alarmed not only any one who might be in the apartment 
 itself, but also those who were in the hall adjacent, or indeed 
 in any part of the castle. In the small room thus carefully 
 arranged and secured, there were two pallet-beds and a large 
 fire, which blazed on the hearth, and gave warmth and comfort 
 to the apartment. Even the means of devotion were not for- 
 gotten, a small crucifix of bronze being hung over a table, on' 
 which laiy a breviary. 
 
 Those v/ho first discovered this little place of retreat, came 
 back loud in praise of the delicacy of the citizens of Bale, who, 
 while preparing for the general accommodation of the strangers, 
 had not failed to provide separately and peculiarly for that of 
 their female companion. 
 
 Arnold Biederman felt the kindness of this conduct. " We 
 should pity our friends of Bale, and not nourish resentment 
 against them," he said. ."They have stretched their kindness 
 toward us as far as their personal apprehensions permitted ; 
 and that is saying no small matter for them, my masters, for ' 
 no passion is so unutterably selfish as that of fear. — Anne, my 
 love, thou art fatigued. Go to the retreat provided for you, and 
 Lizette shall bring you from this abundant mass of provisionis 
 what will be fittest for your evening meal." 
 
ANNE OF CEIERSTEIN. Sj 
 
 So saying, he led his niece into the little bedroom, and, 
 looting round, with an air of complacency wished her good 
 repose ; but there was something on the maiden's brow which 
 seeiped to augur that her uncle's wishes would not be fulfilled. 
 From the moment she had left Switzerland, her looks had 
 become clouded ; her intercourse with those who approached 
 .her had grown inore brief and rare ; her whole appearance was 
 ■marked with secret anxiety or secret' sorrow. This, did not 
 escape her uncle, who naturally imputed it to the pain of part- 
 ing from him, which was probably soon to take place, qnd to her 
 regret at leaving the tranquil spot in which so many years of 
 her youth had been spent. 
 
 But Anne of Geierstein had no sooner entered the apartment, 
 than her whole frame trembled violently, and the color leaving 
 )ier cheeks entirely, she sunk down on one of th,e pallets, where, 
 resting her elbows on her knees, and pressing her hands on her 
 forehead, she rather resembled a person borne down by mental 
 distress, or oppressed by some severe illness, than one who,; tired 
 with a journey, was in haste to , betake herself to needful rest. 
 .Arnold was not quick-sighted as to the many sources of female 
 passion. He saw that his niece suffered ; but imputing it only 
 to the causes already mentioned, augmented by the hysterical 
 effects often produced by fatigue, he gently blamed her for 
 having departed from her character of a Swiss maiden ere she 
 was yet out of reach of a Swiss breeze of wirid. 
 
 " Thou must not let the dames of .Germany or Flanders 
 Jhink that our daughters have degenerated from their inothers ; 
 else^mustwe fight the battles of Sempach and Laupen over 
 again, to convince the emperor, and this haughty Duke of 
 Burgundy, that our men are of the same mettle with their 
 forefathers. And as for our parting,, I do not fear it. My 
 brother is a Count of the Empire, indeed, and. therefore he 
 must needs satisfy himself that everything over which he pos- 
 sesses any title shall be at his command, and, sends for thee to 
 prove his right of doing so. But I know him well : He will no 
 sooner be satisfied that he may command thy attendance at 
 pleasure, than he will concern himself about thee no more. 
 Thee? Alas ! poor thing, in what couldst thou aid his courtly 
 intrigues and ambitious plans.' No, no — thou art not for, the 
 noble Count's purpose, and must be content to trudge back to 
 rule the dairy at Qeierstein, and be the darling of thine old 
 peasantlike uncle." 
 
 "Would to God we' were there even now ! " said the maiden, 
 in a tone of wretchedness which she strove in vain to conceal 
 or suppress. 
 
86 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 "That may hardly be till we have executed the purpose 
 which brought us hither," said the literal Landamtnan ; " But 
 lay thee on thy pallet, Anne — t3.ke a morsel of food and three 
 drops of wine, and thou wilt wake to-morrow, as gay as on a 
 S\yiss holiday when the pipe sounds the reveille." 
 
 Anne was now able to plead a severe headache, and de- 
 clining all refreshment, which she declared herself incapable 
 of tasting, she bade her' uncle good-night. She then desired 
 Lizette to get some food for herself, cautioning her, as she re- 
 turned, to make as little noise as possible, and not to break 
 her repose if she should have the good fortune to fall asleep. 
 Arnold Biederman then kissed his niece, and returned to the 
 hall, where his colleagues in office were impatient to commence 
 an attack on the provisions which were in readiness ; to which 
 the escort of young men, diminished by the patrols and senti-- 
 nels, were no less disposed than their seniors. 
 
 The signal of assault was given by the Deputy from 
 Schwytz, the eldest of the party, pronouncing in patriarchal 
 form a benediction over the meal. The travelers then com- 
 menced their operations with a vivacity which showed that the 
 uncertainty whether they should get any food, and the delays 
 which had occurred in arranging themselves in their quarters, 
 had infinitely increased their appetites. Even the Landamman, 
 whose moderation sometimes approached to abstinence, seemed' 
 that night in a more genial humor than ordinary. His friend 
 of Schwytz, after his example, ate, drank, and spoke more than 
 usual ; while the rest of the deputies pushed their meal to the 
 verge of a carousal. The elder Philipson marked the scene 
 with an attentive and anxious eye, confining his applications to 
 the wine-cup to such pledges as the politeness of the times 
 called upon him to reply to. His son had left the hall just as 
 the banquet began, in the manner which we are now to relate. 
 
 Arthur had proposed to himself to join the youths who were 
 to perform the duty of sentinels within, or patrols on the out- 
 side of their place of repose, and had indeed made some ar- 
 rangement for that purpose with Sigismund, the third of the 
 Landamman's sons. But while about to steal a parting glance 
 at Anne of Geierstein, before offering his service as he pro- 
 posed, there appeared on her brow such a deep and solemn 
 expression, as diverted his thoughts from every other subject, 
 excepting the anxious doubts as to what could possibly have 
 given rise to such a change. The placid openness of brow 5 
 the eye which expressed conscious and fearless innocence ; the 
 lips which, seconded by a look as frank as her words, seemed 
 ever ready to speak, in kindness and in confidence, that which 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN._ 87 
 
 the heart dictated, were for the moment entirely changed in 
 character and expression, and in a degree and manner for 
 which no ordinary cause could satisfactorily account. Fatigue 
 might have banished the rose from the maiden's beautiful com- 
 plexion, and sickness or pain might have dimmed her eye and 
 clouded her brow. But the look of deep dejection with which 
 she fixed her eyes at times on the ground, and the startled and 
 terrified glance which she cast around her at other intervals, 
 must have had their rise in some different source. Neither 
 could illness or weariness explain the manner in which her lips 
 were contracted or compressed together, like one who makes 
 up her mind to act or behold something that is fearful, or ac- 
 count for the tremor which seeemed at times to steal over her 
 insensibly, though by a strong effort she was able at intervals 
 to throw it off. For this change of "expression there must be , 
 in the heart some deeply melancholy and aflflicting cause. 
 What could that cause be ? 
 
 It is dangerous for youth to behold beauty in the pomp of 
 all her charms, with every look bent upon conquest — more 
 dangerous to see her in the hour of unaffected and unapprehen- 
 sive ease and simplicity, yielding herself to the graceful whim 
 of the moment, and as willing to be pleased as desirous of 
 pleasing. There are minds which may be still more affected 
 by gazing on beauty in sorrow, and feeling that pity, that desire 
 of comforting the lovely mourner, which the poet has described 
 as so nearly akin to love. But to a spirit of that romantic and 
 adventurous cast which the Middle Ages frequently produced,,^ 
 the sight of a young and amiable person evidently in a state of 
 terror and suffering, which had no visible cause, was perhaps 
 still more impressive than beauty, in her pride, her tenderness, i 
 or her sorrow. Such sentiments, it must be remembered, 
 were not confined to the highest ranks only, but might, then be ■ 
 found in all classes of society which were raised above the mere 
 peasant or artisan. Young Philipson gazed on Anne of Geierstein 
 with such intense curiosity, mingled with pity and tenderness, 
 that the bustling scene around him seemed to vanish from his 
 eyes, and leave ho one in the noisy hall save himself and the, 
 object of Ills interest. 
 
 " What could it be that sq evidently oppressed and almost 
 quailed a spirit so well balanced, and a courage so well tem- 
 pered, when, being guarded by the swords of the bravest men 
 perhaps to be found in Europe, and lodged in a place of strength, 
 even the most timid of her sex might haye found confidence ? 
 Surely, if an attack were to be made upon them, the clamor of 
 a conflict in such circumstances could scarce be more terrific 
 
88 ANNE OF. GEIERSTEIff. 
 
 than the roar of those cataracts which he had seen her despise ? 
 At least, he thought, she ought to be aware that there is one, 
 who is bound: by friendship and gratityde to fight to the death 
 in lier defence. Would to heaven, he continued in the same 
 reverie, it were possible to convey to her, without sign or speech, 
 the assurance of my unalterable resolution to protect her in the 
 worst of perils ! — As such thoughts streamed through his mind, 
 Anne raised her eyes in one of those fits of deep feeling which 
 seemed to overwhelm her ; and, while she cast them round the 
 hall, with a look of apprehension, as if she expected to see amid' 
 the well-known compaiiions of her journey some strange and 
 unwelcome apparition, they encountered the fixed and anxious 
 gaze of young Philipson. They were instantly bent on the', 
 ground, while a deep blush showed how much she was conscious 
 of having attracted his attention by her previous deportment. 
 
 Arthtir, on his part, with- equal consciousness, blushed as 
 deeply as the maiden herself, and drew himself back from her ' 
 observation. But when Anne rose up, and was escorted by her 
 uncle to her bedchamber, in the manner we have already men- 
 tioned, it seemed to Philipson as if she had carried with her 
 from the apartment the'li'ghts with which it was illuminated, 
 ■ and left it in the twilight melancholy of some funeral hall. His 
 deep musings were pursuing the subject which occupied them 
 thus anxiously, when the mahly voice of Donnerhugel spoke 
 close in his ear — 
 
 " What, comrade, has our journey to-day fatigued you sc( 
 much that you go to sleep upon your feet ? " ' 
 
 " Now Heaven forbid, Hauptrtian," said the Englishma;n<; 
 starting from his reverie, and addressing Rudolph by his name' 
 (signifying Captain, or literally Head-man), which the youth of 
 the expeditioh had by unanimous consent bestowed on him, — 
 " Heaven forbid I should sleep, if there be aught like action in 
 the wind." 
 
 " Where dost thou propose to be at cock-crow ? " said the 
 Swiss. ,' 
 
 " Where duty shall call me, or your experience, noble Haupt- 
 man, shall appoint," replied Arthiir. — " But, with your leave, I 
 - purposed to take Sigismund's guard on the bridge till midnight? 
 or morning dawn. He still feels the sprain which he received 
 in his spring after yonder chamois, and I persuaded him to take 
 some uninterrupted rest, as the best mode of restoring his 
 strength." 
 
 " He will do well to keep his counsel, then," again whispered 
 Donnerhugel ; "the old Landamrrian is not a man to make 
 allowances for mishaps, when they interfere with duty. Thosef 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. S9 
 
 ■yirho are under his orders should have as few brains as a bull, as 
 
 , strong linibs as a bear, and be as impassible as lead or iron to 
 
 all the casualties of life, and all the weaknesses of humanity." 
 
 Arthur replied in the same tone :— " I have been the Landam- 
 man's guest for some time, and have seen no specimens of any 
 such rigid discipline." 
 
 " You are a stranger," said the Swiss, " and the old man. 
 has too much hospitality to' lay yqu under the least restraint. 
 You g.re a volunteer, too, in whatever sh,an.e you choose to take 
 in our sports or our military duty ; and, therefore, when I ask 
 you to walk abroad with me at the first cqck-crowing, it is only 
 in the event that such exercise shall entirely consist with your 
 own pleasure." 
 
 " I consider myself as under your command for the time," 
 said Philipson ; " but, not to bandy courtesy, at cock-crow I 
 shall be relieved from my watch on the drawbridge, and will 
 be by that time glad to exchange the post for a more extended 
 walk." ^ ,, 
 
 " Do you not choose more of this fatiguing, and probably 
 unnecessary duty, than may befit your strength 1 " said Rudolph. 
 
 " I take no more than you do," said Arthur, " as, you pro- 
 pose not to take rest till morning." 
 
 " True," -answered Donnerliugel, "but I am a Swiss." 
 
 " And I," answered Philipson, quickly, " am an English- 
 man." 
 
 " I did not mean what I said in the sense you take it," said 
 Rudolph, laughing ; " I only meant, that I am more interested 
 in this matter than you can be, who are a stranger to the cause 
 in which we are personally engaged." 
 
 " I am a stranger, no doubt," replied Arthur ; " but a 
 stranger who has enjoyed your hospitality, and who therefore 
 claims a right, while with you, to a share in your labors and 
 dangers." 
 
 " Be it so," said, Rudolph Donnerhugel. " I shall have fin- 
 ished my first rounds at the hour when the sentinels at the 
 castle are relieved, and shall be ready to recommence them iii 
 your good company." 
 
 , " Content," said the Englishmen. " And now I will to my 
 post, for I suspect Sigismund is blaming me alre.ady, as oblivi- 
 ous of my promise." 
 
 They hastened together to the gate, where Sigismund will- 
 ingly yielded up his weapon and his guarcl to young Philipson, 
 copfirming the idea sometimes entertained qf him, that he was 
 the most indolent and least spirited of the family of Geierstejri,, 
 Rudolph coujd not suppress his pleasure. 
 
go ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " What would the Landamman say," he demanded, " if he 
 saw thee thus quietly yield up post and partisan to a stranger ? " 
 
 " He would say I did well," answered the young man, noth- 
 ing daunted ; " for he is for ever reminding us to let the 
 stfanget have his own way in everything ; and English Arthur 
 stands on this bridge by his own wish, and no asking of mine. 
 — Therefore, kind Arthur, since thou will barter warm straw 
 and a sound sleep for frosty air and a clear moonlight, I make 
 thee welcome with all my heart. Hear your duty : You are to 
 stop all who enter, or attempt to enter, or till they give the 
 password. If they are strangers, you must give alarm. But 
 you will suffer such of our friends as are known to you to pass 
 outward, without challenge or alarm, because the deputatioti 
 may find occasion to send messengers abroad." 
 
 " A murrain on thee, thou lazy losel ! " said Rudolph — ■ 
 " Thou art the only sluggard of thy kin." 
 
 " Then am I the only wise man of them ali," said the youth, 
 — " Hark ye, brave Hauptman, ye have supped this evening,— 
 have ye not ? " 
 
 "It is a point of wisdom, ye owl," answered the Bernese, 
 " not to go into the forest fasting." 
 
 " If it is wisdom to eat when we are hungry," answered 
 Sigismund, " there can be no folly in sleeping when we are 
 weary." So saying, and after a desperate yawn or two, the re- 
 lieved sentinel halted off, giving full effect to the sprain of 
 which he complained. 
 
 " Yet there is strength in those loitering limbs, and valor in 
 that indolent and sluggish spirit," said Rudolph to the English- 
 rnan. " But it is time that I, who censure others, should be- 
 take me to my own task. — Hither, comrades of the watch, 
 hither." 
 
 The Bernese accompanied these words with a whistle, which 
 brought from within six young men, whom he had previously 
 cbosen for the duty, and who, after a hurried supper, now 
 waited his summons. One or two of them had large blood- 
 hounds or lyme-dogs, which, though usually employed in the 
 pursuit of animals of chase, were also excellent for discovering 
 ambuscades, in which duty their services were now to be em- 
 ployed. One of these animals was held in a.leash, by th'e per- 
 son who, forming the advance of the party, when about twenty 
 yards in front of them ; a second was the property of Donner- 
 hugel himself, who had the creature singularly under command. 
 Three of his companions attended him closely and the two 
 others followed, one of whom bore a horn of the Bernese wild 
 bull, by way of bugle. This little party crossed the moat by 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 9I 
 
 the temporary bridge, and moved on to the verge of the forest, 
 which lay adjacent to the castle, and the skirts of which were 
 most likely to conceal any ambuscade that could be apprehended. 
 The moon was now up, and near the full, so that Arthur, from 
 the elevation on which the castle stood, could trace their slow, 
 cautious march, amid the broad silver light, until they were lost 
 in the depths of the forest. 
 
 When this object had ceased to occupy his eyes, the thoughts 
 of his lonely watch again returned to Anne of Geierstein, and 
 to the singular expression of distress and apprehension which 
 had that evening clouded her beautiful features. Then the 
 blush which had chased, for the moment, paleness and terror 
 from her countenance, at the instant his eyes encountered hers 
 — was it anger — was it modesty — was it some softer feeling, 
 more gentle than the one, more tender than the other? Young 
 Philipson, who, like Chaucer's Squire, was " as modest as a 
 maid," almost trembled to give to that .00k the favorable inter- 
 pretation, which a more self-satisfied gallant would have applied 
 to it without scruple. No hue of rising or setting day was ever 
 so lovely in the eyes of the young man, as that blush was in his 
 recollection; nor did ever enthusiastic visionary, or poetical 
 dreamer, find out so many fanciful forms in the clouds, as 
 Arthur divined various interpretations from the indications of 
 interest which had passed over the beautiful countenance of 
 the Swiss maiden. 
 
 In the meantime, the thought suddenly burst on his reverie, 
 that it could little concern him what was the cause of the per- 
 turbation she had exhibited. They had met at no distant 
 period for the first time, — they must soon part forever. She 
 could be nothing more to hi'm than the remembrance of a 
 beautiful vision, and he could have no other part in her memory 
 save as a stranger from a foreign land, who had been a sojourner 
 for a season in her uncle's house, but whom she could never 
 expect to see again. When this idea intruded on the train of 
 romantic visions which agitated him, it was like the sharp stroke 
 of the harpoon, which awakens the whale from slumbering tor- 
 pidity into violent action. The gateway in which the young 
 soldier kept his watch seemed suddenly too narrow for him. 
 He rushed across the temporary bridge, and hastily traversed 
 a short space of ground in front of the t'ete-du-pont, or defensive 
 work, on which its outer extremity rested. 
 
 Here for a time he paced the narrow extent to which hewas 
 confined by his dutv as a sentinel, with long and rapid strides, 
 as if he had been engaged by vow to take the greatest possible 
 quantity of exercise upon that limited space of ground. His 
 
9^ 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 exertion, however, produced the effect of in some degree com* 
 posing his mind, recalling him to himself, and reminding him 
 of the numerousreasons which prohibited his fixing his atten- 
 tion, much more his affections, upon this young person, how- 
 ever fascinating she was. 
 
 I have surely, he thought, as he slackened his pace, and , 
 shouldered his heavy partizan, sense enough left to recollect my 
 condition and my duties — to think of my father, to whom I am 
 all in all — and to think also on the dishqnor which must 
 accrue to, me, were I capable of vvinning the affections of a 
 frank-hearted and confiding girl, to whom I could never do 
 justice by dedicating my life to return them. " No," he said to 
 himself; "sjje will soon forget me, and I will study to remem- 
 ber her no otherwise than I would a pleasing dream, which hath 
 for a ipo~ment crossed a night of perils and dangers, such as 
 my life seems doomed to be." 
 
 As he spoke, he stopped short in his walk, and as he rested 
 on his weapon, a tear rose unbidden to his eye, and stole down 
 his cheek without being wiped away. But he combated this 
 gentler njopd of passion as he had formerly battled with that 
 wjiich was of a wilder and more desperate character. Shaking 
 off the dejection and sinking of spirit which h,e felt creeping 
 upon him, he resunied, at the same time, the air and attitude 
 of an attentive sentinel, and recalled liis mind to the duties of 
 his watch, which, in the tumult of his feelings, he had almost 
 forgotten. 5"t what was his astonishment, when, as he looked 
 out on the clear landscape, there passed from the bridge toward 
 the forest,, crossing him in the broad moonlight, the living and 
 moving likeijess of Anne of Geierstein 1 
 
 -:J 
 
 CHAPTER TENTH. 
 
 We know not when we sleep nor when we wake. 
 
 Visions distinct and perfect cvoss our eye, 
 
 Which to the sluniberer seem realities ; 
 
 And while they waked, Some men have seen such sights 
 
 As set af nought the evidence o£ sense, 
 
 And left them well persuaded they were dreaming. 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
 The apparition of Anne of Geierstein crossed her lover — her 
 admirer, at least, we must call him — jwithin shorter time than 
 we can tell the story. But it was distinct, perfect, and un- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIlt. 53 
 
 doubted. In the very instant when the yonng Englishman, 
 shaking off his fond despondency, raised his head to look oUt 
 upon the scene of his watch, she came from the nearer end of 
 the bridge, crossing the path of the sentinel, upon whom she 
 did not even cast a look, and passed wiih a rapid yei: steady 
 pace toward the verge of the woodland. 
 
 It would have been natural, though Arthur had been 
 directed not to challenge persons who lefi the castle, but only 
 such as might approach it, that he should nevertheless, had it 
 only been in mere civility, have held' some communication, 
 however slight, with the maiden as she crossed his post. But 
 the suddenness of her appearance took from him for the instant 
 both speech and motion. It seemed as if his own imagination 
 had raised up a phantom, presenting to his outward senses the 
 form and features which engrossed his mind ; and he was Silent, 
 partly at least from the idea, that what he gazed upon was im- 
 material, and not of this world. 
 
 It would have been no less natural that Anne of Geierstein 
 should have in some njanner acknowledged the person who had' 
 spent a considerable time under the same roof with her, had 
 been often her partner in the dance, and hei; companion in the 
 field ; but she did not evince the slightest token of recognition, 
 nor even look toward him as she passed ; her eye was on the 
 wood, to which she advanced swiftly and steadily, and she was 
 hidden by its boughs ere Ai"thuf' had recollected himself suffir 
 ciently to determine what to do. ' ' 
 
 His first feeling was anger at himself for suffering her to 
 pass unquestioned, when it might well chance, that upon any 
 errand which called her forth at so extraordinary a time and 
 place, he might have been enabled to afford her assistance, or 
 at least advice. This sentim'ent was for a short time so pre- 
 dominant, that he ran toward the place where he had seen 
 the skirt of her dress disappear, and whispering her name as 
 loud as the fear of alarming the castle permitted, cbnjured her 
 to return, and hear him but for a few brief moments. No' 
 answer, however, was returned ;, and when the branches of the 
 trees began to darken over his head andto intercept the moon- 
 light, he recollected that he was leaving his post, and exposing 
 his fellow-travelers, who were trusting in his> vigilance, to the 
 danger of surprise. 
 
 He hastened, therefore, back to the castle gate, with matter 
 for deeper and more inextricable doubt and anxiety, than had 
 occupied him during the commencement of his watch. He 
 asked him^iclf in vain, with what purpose that modest young 
 maiden, wiiose manners were frank, but whose conduct had 
 
94 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 always seemed so delicate and reserved, could sally forth at 
 midnight like a damsel-errant in romance, when she was in a 
 strange country and suspicious neighborhood ; yet he rejected, 
 as he would have shrunk from blasphemy, any interpretation 
 which could have thrown censure upon Anne of Geierstein, 
 No, nothing was she capable of doing for which a friend could 
 have to blush. But connecting her previous agitation with the 
 extraordinary fact of her leaving the castle, alone and defence- 
 less, at such an hour, Arthur necessarily concluded it must 
 argue some cogent reason, and, as was most likely, of an un- 
 pleasant nature. — "I will watch her return," he internally 
 uttered, "and, if she will give me an opportunity, I will convey 
 to her the assurance that there is one faithful bosom in her 
 neighborhood, which is bound in honor and gratitude to pour 
 out every drop of its blood, if by doing so it can protect her 
 from the slightest inconvenience. This is no silly flight of 
 romance, for which common sense has a right to reproach, me, 
 it is only what I ought to db, what I must do, or forego every 
 claim to be termed a man of honesty or honor." 
 
 Yet scarce did the young man think himself anchored on a 
 resolution which seemed unobjectionable, than his thoughts 
 were again adrift. He reflected that Anne might have a desire 
 to visit the neighboring town of Eile, to which she' had been 
 invited the day before, and where her uncle had friends. It 
 was indeed an uncommon hour to select for such a purpose ; 
 but Arthur was aware that the Swiss maidens feared neither 
 solitary walks nor late hours, and that Anne would have walked 
 among her own hills by moonlight much further than the dis- 
 tance betwixt their place of encampment and Bale, to see a sick 
 friend, or for any similar purpose. To press himself on her 
 confidence, then, might be impertinence, not kindness ; and as 
 she had passed him without taking the slightest notice of his 
 presence, it was evident she did not mean voluntarily to make 
 him her confidant ; and probably she was involved in no diffi- 
 culties where his aid could be useful. In that case, the duty 
 of a gentleman was to permit her to return as she had gone 
 forth, unnoticed and unquestioned, leaving it with herself to 
 hold communication with him or not as she should choose. 
 
 Another idea, belonging to the age, also passed through his 
 mind, though it made no strong impression upon it. This 
 form, so perfectly resembling Anne of Geierstein, might be a 
 deception of the siglit, or it might be one of those fantastic 
 apparitions, concerning which there were so many tales told in 
 all countries, and of which Switzerland and Germany had, as 
 Arthur well knew, their full share. The internal and undefin- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 95 
 
 able feelings which restrained him from accosting the maiden, 
 as might have been natural for him to have done, are easily 
 explained, on the supposition that his mortal frame shrunj: 
 from an encounter with a being of a different nature. There 
 had also been some express'ions of the magistrate of B^le, which 
 might apply to the castle's being liable to be haunted by beings 
 from another world. But though the general belief in such 
 ghostly apparitions prevented the Englishman from being 
 positively incredulous on the subject, yet the instructions' of 
 his father, a man of great intrepidity and distinguished good 
 sense, had taught him to be extremely unwilling' to refer any- 
 thing to supernatural interferences, which was capable of ex- 
 planation by ordinary rules ; and he therefore shook off, without 
 difficulty, any feeling of superstitious fear, which for an instant 
 connected itself with his nocturnal adventure. He res-olved 
 finally to suppress all disquieting conjectiire on the subject, and 
 to await firmly, if not patiently, the return of the fair vision, 
 which, if it should not fully explain the mystery, seemed at 
 least to afford the only chance of throwing light upon it. . 
 
 Fixed, therefore, in purpose, he traversed the walk which his 
 duty permitted, with his eyes fixed on the part of the forest 
 wliere he had seen the beloved form disappear, and forgetful 
 for the moment that his watch had any other purpose than to 
 observe her return. But from this abstraction of mind he was 
 roused by a distant sound in the forest, which seemed the claSh 
 of armor. Recalled at once to a sense of his duty, and its 
 importance to his father and his fellow-travelers, Arthur planted 
 himself on the temporary bridge, where a stand could best be 
 made, and turned both eyes and ears to watch for approaching 
 danger. The sound of arms and footsteps came nearer — spears 
 and helmets advanced from the greenwood glade, and twinkled 
 in the moonlight. But the stately form of Rudolph Donner- 
 hugel, marching in front, was easily recognized, and announced 
 to our sentinel the return of the patrol. Upon their approach 
 to the bridge, the challenge, and interchange of sign and counter- 
 sign, which is usual on such occasions, took place in due form ; 
 and as Rudolph's party filed off one after another into the castle, 
 he commanded them to wake their companions, with whom he 
 intended to renew the patrol, and at the same time to send a 
 relief to Arthur Philipson, whose watch on the bridge was now 
 ended. This last fact was confirmed by the deep and distant 
 toll of the Minster clock from the town of Bile, which, prolong- 
 ing its sullen sound over field and forest, announced that mid- 
 night was 'past. 
 
 " And now, comrade," continued Rudolph to the Englishman, 
 
g6 ANNP. OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " have the cold air and long watch determined thee to retire to 
 food and rest, or dost thou still hold the intention of partaking 
 our rounds? " 
 
 In very truth, it would have been Arthur's choice to have 
 remained in the place where he was,' for the purpose of watch-, 
 ing Anne of Geierstein's return from her mysterious excursion. 
 He could not easily have found an excuse for this, however, 
 and he was un\yilling to give the haughty Donnerhugel the least 
 suspicion that, he was inferior in hardihood, or in the power, of 
 enduring fatigue, to any of the tall mountaineers, whose com- 
 panion he chanced to be for the present. He did not, therefore, 
 indulge even a moment's hesitation ; but while he restored the 
 borrowed partisan to the sluggish Sigismund, who came from 
 the castle yawning and stretching hitnself like one whose slum- 
 ■bers had been broken by no welcome summons, when they were 
 deepest and sweetest, he acquainted Rudolph that he retained 
 his purpose of partaking in his reconnoitring duty. They were 
 speedily joined by the rest of the patroling party, amongst 
 whom was Rudiger, the eldest son of the Landamman of Unter- 
 walden ; and when, led by the Bernese champion, they had 
 reached the skirts of the forest, Rudolph command three of 
 them to attend Rudiger Biederman.. 
 
 "Thou wilt make thy round to the left side," said the 
 Bernese ; " I will draw off to the right- — see thou keepest a 
 good look out, and we will meet merrily at the place appointed- 
 Take one of the hounds with you. I will keep Wolf-fanger, 
 who will open on a Burgundian as readily as on a bear." 
 
 , Rudiger moved off with his party to the left, according to the 
 directions received ; and Rudolph, having sent forward one of 
 his number in front, and stationed another in the rear, com- 
 manded the third to follow himself and Arthur Pliilipson, who 
 thus constituted the main body of the patrol. Having inti- 
 mated to their immediate attendant to keep at such distance 
 as to allow them freedom of conversation, Rudolph addressed 
 the Englishman with the familiarity which their recent friend- 
 ship had created. — " And now, King Arthur, what thinks the 
 Majesty of England of our Helvetian youth ? Could they win 
 guerdon , in tilt or tourney, thinkest thou, noble prince ? Or 
 wpuld they rank but amongst the coward knights of Cornou- 
 ailles ? " * 
 
 " For tilt and tourney I cannot answer," said Arthur, sum- 
 moning up his spirits to reply, " because I never beheld one of 
 you mounted on a steed, or having spear in rest. But if strong 
 
 *The chivalry of Cornwall are ,!;enerally undervalued in the Norman- 
 Frengh romiinc^s. The cause is difficult to discover. 
 
ANNE OF GElERSTEm. 57 
 
 limbs and stout hearts are to be considered, I would match you 
 Swiss gallants with those of any, country in the universe, where 
 manhood is to be looked for, whether it be in heart or hand." 
 
 "Thou speakest us fair; and, voung Englishman," said 
 Rudolph, " know that we think as highly of thee, of whioh-I 
 will presently afford thee a proof. Thou talkedst but now cf 
 horses. I know but little of them ; yet I judge thou wouldst 
 not buy a steed which thou hadst only seen covered with trap- 
 pings, or encumbered with saddle and bridle, but wouldst desire 
 to look at him when stripped and in his natural state of freedom ?" 
 
 " Ay, marry, would I," said Arthur. " Thou hast spoken on 
 that as if thou hadst been born in a district called Yorkshire, 
 which men call the merriest part of merry England." 
 
 " Then I tell thee," said Rudolph Donnerhugel, " that thou 
 hast seen our Swiss youth but half, since thou hast observed 
 them as yet only in their submissive attendance upon the elders 
 of their cantons, or, at most, in their mountain sports, which, 
 though they may show men's outward strength and activity, 
 can throw nO' light on the spirit and disposition by which that 
 strength and activity are to be guided and directed in matters 
 of high enterprise." 
 
 "The Swiss probably designed that these remarks should 
 excite the curiosity of the stranger. But the Englishman had the 
 image, look, and.form of Anne of Geierstein, as she had passed 
 him in the silent hours of his watch, too constantly before him, 
 to enter willingly upon a subject of conversation totally foreign 
 ,to what agitated his mind. He, therefore, only compelled him- 
 self to reply in civility, that he had no doubt his esteem for 
 the Swiss, both aged and young, would increase in proportion 
 with his more intimate knowledge of the nation. 
 
 He was then silent ; and Donnerhugel, disappointed, per- 
 haps, at having failed to excite his curiosity, walked also in 
 silence by his side. Arthur, meanwhile, was considering with 
 himself whether he should mention to his companion the cir- 
 cumstance which occupied his own mind, in the hope that the 
 kinsman of Anne of Geierstein, and ancient friend of her house, 
 might be able to throw some light on the subject. 
 
 But he felt within his mind an insurmountable objection to 
 converse with the Swiss on a subject in which Anne was con- 
 cerned. That Rudolph made pretensions to her favor could 
 hardly be doubted ; and though Arthur, had the question been 
 put to him, must in common consistency have resigned all com- 
 petition on the subject, still he could not bear to think on the 
 possibility of his rival's success, and would not willingly have 
 endured to hear him pronounce her name. 
 
^8 ANNE OF GETERSTEIN. 
 
 Perhaps it was owing to this secret irritability that Arthur, 
 though he made every effort to conceal and to overcome the 
 sensation, still felt a secret dislike to Rudolph Donnerhugel, 
 whose frank, but somewhat coarse familiarity, was mingled with 
 a certain air of protection and patronage, which the Englishman 
 thought was by no means called for. He met the openness of 
 the Bernese, indeed, with equal frankness, but he was ever and 
 anon tempted to reject or repel the tone of superiority by which 
 it was accompanied. The circumstances of their duel had given 
 the Swiss no ground for such triumph ; nor did Arthur feel 
 himself included in that roll of the Swiss youth, over whom 
 Rudolph exercised dominaiion, by general consent. So little 
 did Philipson relish this affectation of superiority, that the poor 
 jest that termed him King Arthur, although quite indifferent 
 to him when applied by any of the Biedermans, was rather 
 offensive when Rudolph took the same liberty ; so that he often 
 found himself in the awkward condition of one who is internally 
 irritated, without having any outward manner of testifying it 
 with propriety. Undoubtedly, the root of all this tacit dislike 
 to the young Bernese was a feeling of rivalry ; but it was a 
 feeling which Arthur dared not avow even to himself. It was 
 sufficiently powerful, however, to suppress the slight inclination 
 he had felt to speak with Rudolph on the passage of the night 
 which had most interested him ; and as the topic of conversation 
 introduced by his companion liad been suffered to drop, they 
 walked on side by side in silence, " with the beard on the 
 shoulder," as the Spaniard says — looking' round, that is, on all 
 hands ; and thus performing the duty of a vigilant watch. 
 
 At length, after, they had walked nearly a mile through 
 forest and field, making a circuit around the ruins of Graffs- 
 lust, of such an extent as to leave no room for an ambush 
 betwixt them and the place,. the old hound, led by the vidette 
 who was foremost, stopped, and uttered a low growl. 
 
 " How now, Wolf-fanger ! " said Rudolph, advancing. — 
 "What, old fellow ! dost thou not know friends from foes? 
 Come, what sayest thou, on belter thoughts ? — Thou must not 
 lose character in thy old age — try it again." 
 
 The dog raised his head, snuffed the air all around, as if he 
 understood what his master had said, then' shook his head and 
 tail, as if answering to his voice. 
 
 "Why, there it is now," said Donnerhugel, patting the 
 animal's shaggy back ; " second thoughts are worth gold ; thou 
 seest it is a friend after all." 
 
 The dog again shook his tail, and moved forward with the 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. ^n 
 
 same unconcern as before; Rudolph fell back into his place, and 
 his companion said to him — 
 
 " We are about to meet Rudiger and our companions, I sup- 
 pose, and the dog hears their footsteps, though we cannot." 
 
 It can scarcely yet be Rudiger," saiid the Bernese ; "his 
 walk around the castle is of a wider circumference than ours. 
 Some one approaches, however, for Wolf-fanger is again dis- 
 satisfied — Look sharply out on all sides." ' 
 
 As Rudolph gave his party the word to be on the alert, they 
 reached an open glade, in which were scattered, at considerable 
 distance from each other, some old pine-trees of gigantic size, 
 which seemed yet huger and blacker than ordinary, from their 
 broad sable tops and shattered branches being displayed against 
 the clear and white moonlight. 
 
 " We shall here at least," said the Swiss, " have the advan- 
 tage of seeing clearly whatever approaches. But I judge," said 
 he, after looking around for a minute, " it is but some wolf or 
 deer that has crossed our path, and the scent disturbs the 
 hound. — Hold — stop^yes it must be so : he goes on." 
 
 The dog accordingly proceeded, after having; given some 
 signs of doubt, uncertainty, and even anxiety. Apparently, 
 however, he became reconciled to what had disturbed him, arid 
 proceeded once more in the ordinary manner. 
 
 _ " This is singular ! " said Arthur Philipson ; " and, to my 
 thinking, I saw an object close by yonder patch of thicket, 
 where, as well as I can guess, a few thorn and hazel bushes 
 surrounded the stems of four or five large trees." 
 
 " My eye has been on that very thicket for these five minutes 
 past, and I saw nothing," said Rudolph. 
 
 _ " Nay, but," answered the young Englishman, " I saw the 
 object, whatever it was, while you were engaged in attending 
 to the dog. And, by your permission, I will forward and 
 examine the spot." 
 
 " Were you, strictly speaking, under my command," said 
 Donnerhugel, " I would command you to keep your place. If 
 they be foes, it is essential that we should remain together. 
 But you are a volunteer in our watch, and therefore may use 
 your freedom." 
 
 "I thank you," answered Arthur, and sprang quickly for- 
 ward. ' ' 
 
 He felt, indeed, at the moment, that he was not acting 
 courteously as an individual, nor perhaps correctly as a soldier ; 
 and that he ought to have rendered obedience for the time, to 
 the captain of the party in which he had enlisted himself. 
 But, on the other band, the object which he had seen, thougli 
 
100 ANNE OP GEIERSTETN. 
 
 at a distance and imperfectly, seemed to bear a resemblarictf to 
 the retiring form of Anne of Geierstein, as she had vanished 
 from his eyes, an hour or two before, under the cover of the 
 forest ; and his ungovernable curiosity to ascertain whether it 
 might not be the maiden in person, allowed him to listen tp no 
 other consideration. 
 
 Ere Rudolph had spoken out his few words of reply, Arthur 
 was half-way to the thicket. It was, as it had seemed at a 
 distance, of small extent, and not fitted to hide any person who 
 did not actually couch down amongst the dwarf bushes and 
 underwood. Anything white, also, which bore the human size 
 and form, must, he thought, have been discovered among the 
 dark red stems and swarthy colored bushes which were before 
 him. These observations were mingled with other thoughts. 
 If it was Anne of Geierstein whom he had a second time seen, 
 she must have left the more open path, desirous probably of 
 avoiding notice ; and what right or title had he to direct upon 
 her the observation of the patrol.'' He had, he thought, 
 observed, that, in general the maiden rather repelled than en- 
 couraged the attentions of Rudolph Donnerhugel ; or, where it 
 would have been discourteous to liave rejected them entirely, 
 that she endured without, encouraging them. What, then, 
 could be the propriety of his intruding upon her private walk, 
 singular, indeed, from time and place, but which, on that ac- 
 count, she might be more desirous to keep secret from the 
 observation of one who was disagreeable to her ? Nay, was it 
 not possible that Rudolph might derive advantage to his other- 
 wise unacceptable suit, by possessing the knowledge of some- 
 thing which the maiden desired to be concealed ? ' 
 
 As these thoughts pressed upon him, Arthur made a pause, 
 with his eyes fixed on the thicket, from which he was now 
 scarce thirty yards distant ; and although scrutinizing it with 
 all the keen accuracy which his uncertainty and anxiety dic- 
 tated, he was actuated by a strong feeling that it would be 
 wisest to turn back . to his companions, and report to Rudolph 
 that his eyes had deceived him. 
 
 But while he was yet undecided whether to advance or 
 return, the object which he had seen became again visible on 
 the verge of the thicket, and advanced straight toward him, 
 bearing, as on the former occasion, the exact dress and figure 
 of Anne of Geierstein ! This vision^ — for tlie time, place, and 
 suddenness of the appearance, made it seem rather an illusion 
 than a reality — struck Arthur with surprise which amounted to 
 terror. The figure passed within a spear's length, unchallenged 
 by him, and giving not the slightest siga of recognition ; and. 
 
ANNE OF GEIEKSTEIN. 1 01 
 
 directing its course to the right hand of Rudolph, and the two 
 or three who were with him, was again lost among the broken 
 ground and bushes. 
 
 Once more the young man was reduced to a state of the 
 most inextricable doubt ; nor was he roused from the stupor 
 into which he was thrown, till the voice of the Bernese sounded 
 in his ear, — 
 
 " Why, how now, King Arthur — art thou asleep, or art thou 
 wounded ? " . 
 
 "Neither," said Philipson, collecting himself; " only much 
 surprised." 
 
 ■ " Surprised and at what, most royal " 
 
 "Forbear foolery," -said Arthur, somewhat sternly, "and 
 answer as thou art a man — Did she not meet thee ? — didst thou 
 not' see her ? " ■ - 
 
 " See her !■ — see whom ? " said Donnerhugel. " I saw no one. 
 And I could have sworn you had seen no one either, for I had 
 you in my eye the whole time pf your absence, eJscepting two or 
 three moments. If you saw aught, why gave you not the alarm ? " 
 
 "Because it was only a woman," answered Arthur faintly. 
 
 " Only awoman ! " repeated Rudolph, in a tone of contempt. 
 "By ;my honest word. King Arthur, if I had not seen pretty 
 flashes of valor fly from thee at times, I should^ be apt to think 
 that thou hadst only a woman's courage thyself. Strange, that 
 a shadow by night, or, a precipice in the day, should quell so 
 bold a spirit as thou hast often shown, " 
 
 ^'And as I will ever show, when occasion demands, it," in- 
 terrupted the Englishman, with recovered spirit. " But I swear 
 to you, that if I be now daunted, it is by no metely earthly fears 
 that my mind hath been for a moment subdued." 
 
 " Let us proceed on our walk," said Rudolph ; " we must not 
 neglect the safety of our frieinds. This appearance, of which 
 thou speakest, may be but a trick to interrupt Our duty." 
 
 They moved on through the moonlight glades, A minute's 
 reflection restored young Philipson to his full recollection, and 
 with that to the painful consciousness that he had played a 
 ridiculous and unworthy part in the presence of the person, 
 whom (of the male sex, at least) he would the very last have 
 chosen as a witness of his weakness. 
 
 He ran hastily over the relations which stood betwixt him- 
 self^ Donnerhugel, the Landamman, his niece, and the rest of 
 ' that family ; and, contrary . to the opinion which he had enter- 
 tained but a short while before, settled in his own mind that it 
 washis dutv to mention to the immediate leader, under whom 
 lie had placed himself, the appearance which he had twice 
 
102 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 observed in the course of that night's duty. There might be 
 family circumstances, — the payment of a vow, perhaps, or some 
 such reason, — which might render intelligible to her connections 
 the behavior of this young lady. Besides, he was for the pres- 
 ent a soldier on duty, and these mysteries might be fraught 
 with evils to be anticipated or guarded against ; in either case, 
 his companions were entitled to be made aware of what he had 
 seen. It must be supposed that this resolution was adopted 
 when the sense of duty, and of shame for the weakness which 
 he had exhibited, had for the moment subdued Arthur's per- 
 sonal feelings toward Anne of Geierstein, — ^feelings, also, liable 
 to be chilled by the mysterious uncertainty which the events 
 of that evening had cast, like a thick mist, around the object 
 of them. 
 
 While the Englishman's reflections were taking this turn, 
 his captain or companion, after a silence of several minutes, at 
 length addressed him. 
 
 " I believe,^' he said, " my dear comrade, that, as being at 
 present your officer, I have some title to hear from you the 
 report of what you have just now seen, since it must be some- 
 thing of importance which could so strongly agitate a mind so 
 firm as yours. But if, in your own opinion, it consists with the 
 general safety to delay your report of what you have seen until 
 we return to the castle, and then to deliver it to the private ear 
 of the Landamman, you have only to intimate your purpose ; 
 and, far from urging you to place confidence in me personally, 
 though I hope I am not undeserving of it, I will authorize your 
 leaving us, and returning instantly to the castle." 
 
 This proposal touched him to whom it was made exactly in 
 the right place. An absolute demand of his confidence might 
 perhaps have been declined ; the tone of moderate request and 
 conciliation fell presently in with the Englisman's own re- 
 flections. 
 
 " I am sensible," he said, " Hauptman, that I ought to 
 mention to you that. which I have seen to-night; but on the 
 first occasion, it did not fall within my duty to do so ; and, 
 now that I have a second time witnessed the same appearance, 
 I have felt for these few seconds so much surprised at what I 
 have seen, that even yet I can scarce find words to express it." 
 
 " As I cannot guess what you may have to say," replied the 
 Bernese, " I must beseech you to be explicit. We are but poor 
 readers of riddles, we thick-headed Switzers," 
 
 "Yet it is but a riddle which I have to place before you, 
 Rudolph Donnerhugel," answered the Englishman, " and a 
 riddle which is far beyond my own guessing at." He then 
 
ANN£ OP GElERSTEm. 
 
 103 
 
 proceeded, though not without hesitation, "While you were 
 performing your first patrol amongst the ruins, a female crossed 
 the_ bridge_ from within the castle, walked by my post without 
 saying a single word, and vanished under the shadows of the 
 forest." 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed Donnerhugel, and made no further 
 answer. 
 
 Arthur proceeded. " Within these five minutes, the same 
 female form passed me a second time, issuing from the little 
 thicket and clump of firs, and disappeared without exchanging 
 a word. Know, further, this apparition bore the form, face, 
 gait, and dress of your kinswoman, Anne of Geierstein.'V 
 
 " Singular enough," said Rudolph, in a tone of incredulity* 
 "I must not, I suppose, dispute your w'ord, for you would 
 receive doubt on my part as a mortal injury — such is your 
 northern chivalry. Yet, let me say, I have eyes as well as you, 
 and I scarce think they quitted you for a minute. We were not 
 fifty yards from the place where I found you standing, in amaze- 
 ment. How, therefore, should not we also have seen that 
 which you say and think you saw ? " . , 1 ' . 
 
 "To that I can giye no answer," said Arthur. "Perhaps 
 your eyes were not exactly turned upon me during the short 
 space in which I saw'this^form — Perhaps it might be visible — 
 as they say fantastic appearances sometimes are — to only one 
 person at a time." 
 
 " You suppose, then, that the appearance was imaginary, or 
 fantastic .' " said the Bernese. 
 
 " Can I tell you ? " replied the Englishman.' " The Church 
 gives its warrant that there are such things ; and surely it is 
 more natural to believe this apparition to be: an illusion, than 
 to suppose that Anne of Geierstein, a gentle ^nd well-nurtured 
 maiden, should be traversing the woods at this wild hour, when 
 safety and propriety so strongly recommend her being within 
 doors." ' 
 
 "There is much in what you say," said Rudolph ; " and. yet 
 there are stories afloat, though few care to mention them, which 
 seem to allege that Anne of Geierstein is not altogether such as 
 other maidens ; and that she has been met with, in body and 
 spirit, where she could* hardly have come by her own unassisted 
 efforts." 
 
 " Ha 1 ". said Arthur ; " so young, so beautiful, and already 
 in league with the destroyer of mankind ? It is impossible." 
 
 " I said not so," replied the Bernese ; " nor have I leisure at 
 present to explain my meaning, more fully. As we return to the 
 Qastle of Graffs-lust, I may have an opportunity to tell you 
 
104 AJ^NE OF GEIERSTEl^f. 
 
 more. But I chiefly brought you on this patrol to introduce 
 you to some friends, whom you will be pleased to know, and 
 who desire your acquaintance ; and it is here I expect to meet 
 them." -■-,■■ 
 
 So saying, he turned round the projecting corner of a rock^ 
 and an unexpected scene was presented to the eyes Of the 
 young Englishman. 
 
 In a sort of nook or corner, screened by the rocky projection^ 
 there burned a large fire of wood, and around it sat, reclined, 
 or lay, twelve or flftieen young men in the Swiss garb, btit dec- 
 orated with ornaments and embroidery, which reflected' back 
 the light of the Are. The same red gleam was returned' by 
 silver wine-cups, which circulated from hand to hand with the 
 flasks which filled them. ., Arthur could also observe the relics 
 of a banquet, to which due honor seemed to have been lately 
 rendered. 
 
 The revelers- started joyfully up at the sight of Donnerhugel 
 and his companions, and saluted him, easily distinguished 
 as he was by his stature by the title of Captain, warmly and ex- 
 ultingly uttered, while, at the same time, every tendency to noisy 
 acclamation was cautiously suppressed. The zeal indicated 
 that Rudolph came most welcome — the cautibn that he came 
 in secret, and was to be received with mystery. 
 
 To the general greeting he answered, — "I thank you, my 
 brave comrades. Has Rudiger yet reached you ? " 
 
 " Thou seest he has not," said one of the party ; " had it 
 been so, we would have - detained him here till your coming, 
 brave Captain." 
 
 "He has loitered on his pa:trol," said the Bernese. "We 
 too were delayed, yet we are here before him.' I bring with 
 me, comrades, the brave Englishman, whom' I mentioned to 
 you as a desirable associate in our daring purpose." 
 
 " He is welcome, most welcome to us," said a ydUng man, 
 whose richly embroidered dress of azure blue gave him an air 
 of authority ;" most welcome is he, if he brings with him a 
 heart and a hand to serve our noble task/' 
 
 " For both I will be responsible," said Rudolph. " Pass 
 the wine-cup, then, to the success of our glorious enterprise, 
 and the health of this our new associate ! " 
 
 While they were replenishing the cups with wine of a qual- 
 ity far superior to any which Arthur had yet tasted in these 
 regions, he thought it right, before engaging himself in the 
 pledge, to learn the secret object of the association which 
 seemed desirous of adopting him. 
 
 " Before I engage my poor services to you; fair sirs, since 
 
ANJ^E OF GEIERSTEIN. IP5 
 
 it pleases you to desire. them, permit me," he said, " to ask the 
 purpose and character of the undertaking in which they are to 
 be employed." 
 
 ".Shouldst thou have brought him hither," said the cavalier 
 in blue to Rudolph, " without satisfying him and thyself on 
 that point ? " 
 
 " Care not thou about it, Lawrenz," replied the Bernese : 
 " I know my man.— r Be it known, then, to you, my good friend,'' 
 he continued, addressing the Englishman, " that my comrades 
 and I are determined at once to declare.the freedom of the Swiss 
 commerce, and to resist to .the death, if it be necessary, all un- 
 lawful and extortionate demands on the part of our neigh- 
 bors." ' . 
 
 "I understand so much," said the young Englishman. 
 "and that the present deputation proceeds to the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy with remonstrances to that effect." 
 
 " Hear me," replied Rudolph. , " The question is like to 
 be brought to a blo6dy determination long ere we see the Duke 
 ot , Burgundy's most august and most gracious countenance. 
 That his influence should be used to exclude us from Bile, a 
 neutral town, and pertaining to the empire, gives us. cause to 
 expect the worst reception when we enter his own dominions. 
 We have even reason to think that we might have suffered from 
 his hatred already, but for the vigilance of the ward which wc 
 Jiaye kept. Horsemen, from the direction pf La Ferette, have 
 this night reconnoitred ,our posts ; and had;the;y not found u;; 
 prepared, we had, without question, been attacked in pur quar- 
 ters. But since we have escaped to-night, we must <ake care 
 for to-morrow. For this, purpose, a number of the bravest 
 youth of the city of Bale, incensed at the pusillanimity of their 
 magistrates, are, determine4 to join us, in order to wipe awa}- 
 the disgrace which the cowardly inhospitality of their magis- 
 traicy has brought on their native place." 
 
 " That we will do ere the sun, that will rise two hours hence 
 shall sink into the western sky," said the cavalier in blue ; and 
 those around joined him in stern assent. 
 
 " Gentle sirs," replied Arthur, when there was a pause, "let 
 me remind, you, that the embassy which you attend is a peace- 
 ful one, and that those who act as its escort ought to avoid any- 
 thing Which can augment the differences which it comes to 
 reconcile. Ypu cannot expect to receive offence in the Duke's 
 dominions^ the privileges of envoys being respected in all 
 civilized /Countries ; and you will, I am sure,. desire to offer 
 none." 
 
 "We may be subjected to insult, however," replied the 
 
lo6 ANNE OF GBIERSTEIN. 
 
 Bernese, " and that through your concerns, Arthur Philipson, i 
 and those of thy father." 
 
 " I understand you jiot," replied Philipson. 
 
 " Your father," answered Donnerhugel, " is a merchant, and 
 bears with him wares of small bulk but high value ? " 
 
 " He does so," answered Arthur ; " and what of that t " 
 
 "Marry," answered Rudolph, "that if it be not better looked 
 to, the Bandog of Burgundy is like to fall heir to a large propor- 
 tion of your silks, satins, and jewelry work." 
 
 " Silks, satins, and jewels ! " exclaimed another of the revel- 
 ers ; " such wares will not pass toll-free where Archibald of 
 Hagenbach hath authority." 
 
 "Fair sirs," resumed Arthur, after a moment's consideratib'ii, 
 "these wares are my father's property, not mine ; and it is for 
 him, not me, to pronounce how much of them he might be con- 
 tent to part with in the way of toll, rather than give occasion to 
 a fray, in which his companions, who have received him into 
 thejr society, must be exposed to injury as well as himself. I 
 can only say, that he has weighty affairs at the court of Bur- 
 gundy, which must render him desirous of reaching it in peace 
 with all men ; and it is my priv&.te belief that, rather than incur 
 the loss and danger of a broil with the garrison of La Feretfe, 
 he would- be contented to sacrifice all the property which he has 
 at present with him. Therefore, I must Tequest of you, gentle- 
 men, a space to consult his pleasure on this occasion ; assuring 
 you, that if it be his will to resist the payrpent of these duties 
 to Burgundy, you shall find in me one who is fully determined 
 to fight to the last drop of his blood." 
 
 "Good King Arthur," said Rudolph ;" thou art a dutiful 
 observer of the Fifth Commatidment, and thy days shall be long 
 in the land. Do not suppose us neglectful of the same duty, 
 although, for the present, we conceive ourselves bound,' in the 
 first place, to attend to the' weal of our country, the common 
 parent of our fathers and ourselves. But as you know our pro- 
 found respect for the Landamman, you need not fear that we 
 shall willingly offer him offence, by rashly engaging in hostil- 
 ities, or without some weighty reason ; and an attempt to plunder 
 his guest would have been met, on his part, with resistance to 
 the death. I had hoped to find both you and your father prompt ' 
 enough to resent such a gross injury. Nevertheless, if your 
 father inclines to present his fleece to be shorn by Archibald of 
 Hagenbach, whose scissors, he will find, clip pretty closely, it 
 would be unnecessary and uncivil in us to interpose. ^Meantime 
 you have the advantage of knowing, that in case the Govei-- 
 nbr of La Ferette should be dispoised to strip you of skin as well 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 1 07 
 
 as fleece, there are more men close at hand than you looked 
 for, whom you will find both able and willing to render you 
 prompt assistance." 
 
 " On these terms," said the Englishman, " I make my ac- 
 knowledgments to these gentlemen of Bale, or whatever other 
 country hath sent them forth, and pledge them in a brotherly 
 cup to our further and more intimate acquaintance." 
 
 " Health and prosperity to the United Cantons, and their 
 friends ! " answered the Blue Cavalier. " And death and con- 
 fusion to all besides." 
 
 The cups were replenished ; and instead of a shout of ap- 
 plause, the young men around testified their devoted determina- 
 tion to the cause which was thus announced, by grasping each 
 other's hands, and thea brandishing their weapons with a fierce 
 ^yet noiseless gesture. 
 
 " Thus," said Rudolph Donnerhugel, our illustrious ances- 
 tors, the fathers of Swiss independence, met in the immortal 
 field of Rutli, between Uri and Unterwalden. Thus they swore 
 to each other, under the blue firmament of heaven, that they 
 would restore the liberty of their oppressed country ; and history 
 can tell how well they kept their word." 
 
 " And she shall record," said the Blue Cavalier, " how well 
 the present Switzers can preserve the freedom which their 
 fathers won. — ^I'roceed in your rounds, good Rudolph, and be 
 assured, that at the signal of the Hauptraan, the soldiers will 
 not be far absent ; — all is arranged as formerly, unless you have 
 new orders to give us." 
 
 " Hark thee hither, Lawrenz," said Rudolph to the Blue 
 Cavalier, — and Arthur could hear him say, — " Beware, my 
 friend, that the Rhine wine be not abused ; — if there is too 
 much provision of it, manage to destroy the flasks ; — a mule 
 may stumble, thou knowest, or so. Give not way to Rudiger in 
 this. He is grown a wine-bibber since he joined us. We must 
 bring both heart and hand td what, may be done to-morrow."- — 
 They then whispered so low that Arthur could hear nothing of 
 their further conference, and bid each other adieu, after clasp- 
 ing hands, as if they were renewing some solemn pledge of 
 union. 
 
 Rudolph and his party then moved forward, and were scarce 
 out of sight of their new associates, when the vidette, or fore- 
 most of their patrol, gave the signal of alarm. Arthur's heart 
 leaped, to his lips — " It is Anne of Geierstein ! " he Said, inter- 
 nally. 
 
 "The dogs are silent," said the Bernese. "Those who ap- 
 proach must be the companions of our watch." 
 
log ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 They proved, accordingly, to be Rudiger and his party, whp, 
 halting on the appearance of their comrades, made and under- 
 went a formal challenge ; such advance had the Swiss already 
 made in military discipline, which was but little and rudely 
 studied by the infantry in other parts of Europe. Arthur could 
 hear Rudolph take his friend Rudiger to task for not meetmg 
 him at the halting-place appointed. " It leads to new revelry 
 on your arrival," he said, " and to-morrow must find us cool 
 and determined." 
 
 " Cool as an icicle, noble Hauptman^" answered the son of 
 the Landamman, " and determined as the rock it hangs upon." 
 
 Rudolph again recommended temperance, and the young 
 Biederman promised compliance., The two parties passed each 
 other with friendly though silent greeting ; and there was soon a 
 considerable distance between them. 
 
 The country was more open on the side of the castle, around 
 which their duty now led them, than where it lay opposite to tlje 
 principal gate." The glades were broad, the trees thinly scattereci 
 over pa;sture land, and there were no thickets, ravines, or similar 
 places of ambush, so that the eye might, in the clear moonlight, 
 well command the country. 
 
 " Here," said Rudolph, " we may judge ourselves secure 
 enough for some conference ; and therefore may I ask thee," 
 Arthur of England, now that thou hast seen «s more closely, 
 what thinkest thou of the Switzer youth ? — If thou hast learned 
 less than I could have wished, thank thine own uncommuni- 
 cative temper, which retired in some degree from our con- 
 fidence." 
 
 " Only in so far as I could not have answered, and therefore 
 ought not to have received it," said Arthur. " The judgment I 
 have been enabled to' form amounts, in few words, to this : 
 Your purposes are lofty and noble as your mountains ; but the 
 stranger from the low country is not accustomed to tread the 
 circuitous path by which you ascend them. My foot has been 
 always accustomed to move straight forward upon the green- 
 sward." 
 
 " You speak in riddles," .answered the Bernese. 
 
 " Not so," returned the Englisman. " I think you ought 
 plainly to mention to your seniors (the nominal leaders of young 
 men ijvho seemed well disposed to take their own road) that you 
 expect an attack in the neighborhood of La Ferette, and hope 
 for assistance from some of the townsmen of Bale." 
 
 " Ay, truly," answered Donnerhugel ; " and the Landamma.ji 
 would stop his journey till he despatched a messenger for safe- 
 
ANNE OP GEIERSTEIN. I09 
 
 conduct to the Duke of Burgundy ; and should he grant it, 
 there were an end of all hope of war." 
 
 "True," replied Arthur; "but the Landamman would 
 thereby obtain his own principal object, and the sole purpose 
 of the mission — that is, the establishment of peace." 
 
 " Peace — peace ? " answered the Bernese, hastily. — " Were 
 my wishes alone to be opposed to those of Arnold Biederihan, I 
 know so much of his honor and faith, I respect so highly his 
 valor and patriotism, that at his voice I would sheathe my 
 sword, even if my most mortal enemy stood before' me. But 
 mine is not the single wish of a single man ; the whole of my 
 canton, and that of Soleure, are determined on war. It was by 
 war, noble war, that our fathers came forth from the house of 
 their captivity — it was by war, successful and glorious war, that 
 a race, who had been held scarce so much worth thinking on as 
 the oxen which they goaded, emerged at once into liberty and 
 consequence, and were honored because they were feared, as 
 much as they had been formerly despised because they were 
 unresisting." 
 
 " This may be all very true," said the young Englishman ; 
 " but, in my opinion, the object of your mission has been deter- 
 mined by your Diet or House of Commons. They have re- 
 solved to send you with others as messengers of peace ; but you 
 are secretly blowing the coals of war ; and while all or most of 
 your senior colleagues are setting out to-morrow in expectation 
 of a peaceful journey, you stand prepared for a combat, and 
 look for the means of giving cause for it." 
 
 " And is it not well that I do stand so prepared ? " answered 
 Rudolph. " If our reception in Burgundy's dependencies be 
 peaceful, as you say the rest of the deputation expect, my pre- 
 cautions will be needless ; but at least they can do no harm. If 
 it prove otherwise, I shall be the means of averting a great mis- 
 fortune from my colleagues, my kinsman Arnold Biederman, my 
 fair cousin Anne, your father, yourself — from all of us in shbrtj 
 who are joyously traveling together." 
 
 Arthur shook his head. " There is something in all this," he 
 said, "which I understand not, and will not seek to understand. 
 I only pray that you will not make my father's concerns the sub- 
 ject of breaking truce ; it may, as you hint, involve the Landam- 
 man in a quarrel, which he might otherwise have avoided. I am 
 sure my father will never forgive it." 
 
 '' I have pledged my word," said Rudolph, " already to that 
 effect. But if he should like the usage of the Bandog of Bur- 
 gundy le&s than you seem to apprehend he will, there is no harm 
 
J 10 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 in your knowing that, in tiihe of need, he may be well and 
 actively supported." ' _ ,; 
 
 " I am greatly obliged by the assurance," replied the English- 
 man. 
 
 "And thou mayest thyself, my friend," continued Rudolph, 
 " take a warning from what thou hast heard : Men go not to a 
 bridal in armor, nor to a brawl in silken doublet." 
 
 " I will be clad to meet the worst," said Arthur ; " and for 
 that purpose I will don a light hauberk of well-tempered steel, 
 proof against spear or arrow ; and I thank you for your kindly 
 counsel." 
 
 " Nay, thank not me," said Rudolph ; " I were ill deserving 
 to be a leader did I not make those who are to follow, me 
 ' — more especially so trusty a follower as thou art — aware of the 
 time when they should buckle on their armor, and prepare for 
 hard blows." 
 
 Here the conversation paused for a moment or two, neither 
 of the speakers being entirely contented with his companion, 
 although neither pressed any further remark. 
 
 The Bernese, judging from the feelings which he had seen 
 predominate among the traders of his own country, had enter- 
 tained little doubt that the Englishman, finding himself power- 
 fully supported in point of force, would have caught at the oppor- 
 tunity to resist paying the exorbitant imposts with which he was 
 threatened at the next town, which would probably, without any 
 effort on Rudolph's part, haye led to breaking of the truce on the 
 part of Arnold Biederman himself, and to an instant declaration 
 of hostilities. On the other hand, young Philipson could not 
 understand or approve of Donnerhugel's conduct, who, himself 
 a member of a peaceful deputation, seemed to be animated 
 with the purpose of seizing an opportunity to kindle the flames 
 of war. 
 
 Occupied by these various reflections, they walked side by 
 side for some time without speaking together, until Rudolph 
 broke silence. 
 
 " Your curiosity is then ended. Sir Englishman," said he, 
 " respecting the apparition of Anne of Geierstein ? " 
 
 " Far from it," replied Philipson. " But I would unwillingly 
 intrude any questions on you while you are busy with the duties 
 of your patrol." 
 
 " That may be considered as over," said the Bernese, "for 
 there is not a bush near us to cover a Burgundian knave, and 
 a glance around us from time to time is all that is now needful 
 to prevent surprise. And so, listen while I tell a tale, never 
 sung or harped in hall -or bower, and which, I begin to think,' 
 
ANNE OF GEIMRSTEIN. til 
 
 Reserves as much credit, at least, as is due to the Tales of the 
 Round Table, which ancient troubadours and minne-singers 
 dole out to us as the authentic chronicles of your renowned 
 namesake. 
 
 " Of Anne's ancestors on the male side of the house," con- 
 tinued Rudolph, " I dare say you have heard enough, and are 
 well aware how they dwelt in the old walls at Geierstein beside 
 the cascade, grinding their vassals, devouring the substance of 
 their less powerful neighbors, and plundering the goods of the 
 travelers whom ill luck sent within ken of tl-je vulture's eyry, 
 the one year ; and in the next, wearying the shrines for mercy 
 for their trespasses, overwhelming the priests with the wealth 
 which they showered upon them, and finally, vowing vows, 
 and making pilgrimages, sometimes as palmers, sometimes as 
 crusaders, as far as Jerusalem itself, to atone for the iniquities 
 which they had commited without hesitation or struggle of 
 conscience." 
 
 " Such, I have understood," replied the young Englishman, 
 " was the history of the house of Geierstein, till Arrtold, or his 
 immediate ancestors, exchanged the lance for the sheep-hook." 
 " But it is said," replied the Bernese, " that the powerful 
 and wealthy Barons of Arnheim, of Swabia, whose only female 
 descendant became the wife to Count Albert of Geierstein, and 
 the mother of this young person, whom Swiss call simply Anne, 
 and Germans Countess Anne of Geierstein, were nobles of a 
 diiferent ciaste. They did not restrict their lives within the 
 limits of sinning and Repenting,— of plundering harmless peas- 
 ants, and pampering fat monks ; but were distinguished for 
 something more than building castles with dungeons and folter- 
 kammers, or torture-chambers, and founding monasteries with 
 Galilees and Refectories. 
 
 " Thes.e same Barons of Arnheim were men who strove to 
 enlarge the boundaries of human knowledge, and converted 
 their castle into a species of college, where there were more 
 ancient volumes than the monks have piled ■ together in the 
 library of St. Gall. Nor were their studies in books alone. 
 Deep buried in their private laboratories^ they attained secrets 
 which were afterward transmitted through the race from father 
 to son, and were supposed to have approached nearly to the 
 deepest recesses of alehymy. The report of their wisdom and 
 their wealth was often brought to the Imperial footstool ; and 
 in the frequent disputes which the Emperors maintained with 
 the Popes of old, it is said they were encouraged, if not insti^ 
 gated, by the counsels of Barons of Arnheim, and supported by' 
 by their treasures. It was, perhaps, such a course of politics, 
 
TI2 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 joined to the unusual and mysterious studies which the family 
 of Arnheim so long pursued, which excited against them the 
 generally received opinion, that they were assisted in their su- 
 perhuman researches by the supernatural influences. The 
 priests were active in forwarding this cry against men, who, 
 perhaps, had no other fault . than that of being wiser than 
 themselves. 
 
 '' ' Look what guests,' they said, ' are received in the halls of 
 Arnheim! Let a Christian' knight, crippled in war with the 
 Saracens, present himself on the drawbridge, he is guerdoned 
 with a crust and a cup of wine, and required to pass on his 
 way. If a palmer, redolent of the sanctity acquired by his 
 recent visits to the most holy shrines, and by the sacred relics 
 ■which attest and reward his toil, approach the unhallowed walls, 
 the warder bends his crossbow, and the porter shuts the gate, 
 as if the wandering saint brought the plague with him from 
 Palestine. But comes-there a gray-bearded, glib-tongued Greek, 
 with-his parchment scroll, the very letters of which are painful 
 tp Christian eyes — comes there a Jewish Rabbin, with his Tal- 
 mud, and Cabala — comes there a swarthy sun-burnt Moor, who 
 can boast of having read the language of the Stars in Chaldea, ■ 
 the cradle of astrological science — Lo, the wandering impostor 
 or sorcerer occupies the highest seat at the Baron of Arnheim's 
 board, shares with him the labors of the alembic and the fur- 
 nace, learns from him mystic knowledge, like that of which our 
 first parents participated Ijo the overthrow of their race, and 
 requites it with lessons more dreadful than he receives, till the 
 profane. host has added to his hoard of unholy wisdom all that 
 the pagan visitor can communicate. And these things are done 
 in Almain, which is called the Holy Roman Empire, of which 
 so many priests are princes ! — they are done, and neither ban 
 nor monition is issued against a race of sorcerers, who, from 
 age to age, go on triumphing in their necromancy! ' 
 
 " Such arguments, which were echoed frpm mitred Abbots 
 to the cell of Anchorites, seem, nevertheless, to have made little 
 impression on the Imperial counsel. But they served to excite 
 the zeal of many a Baron and Free Count Of the Empire, who 
 were taught by them to esteem a war or feud with the Barons 
 of Arnheim as partaking of the nature, and entitled to tKe 
 immunities, of a crusade against the enemies of the Faith, and 
 to regard an attack upon these obnoxious potentates, as a mode 
 of clearing off their deep scores with the Christian Church. 
 But the Lords of Arnheim, though not seeking for quarrel, were 
 by no means unwarlike, or averse to maintaining their own 
 defence. Some, on the contrary, belonging to this obnoxious 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 113 
 
 race were, not the less distinguished as gallant , kniglits and 
 good men-at-arms. They were, besides wealthy, secured and 
 strengthened by great alliances, and in an eminent degree wise 
 and provident. This the parties who assailed them learned to 
 their cost. 
 
 " The confederacies formed against the Lords of Arnheim 
 were broke up; the attacks which their' enemies meditated 
 were anticipated and disconcerted ; and those who employed 
 actual violence were repelled with signal loss to the assailants : 
 until at length an impression was produced in their neighbor- 
 hood, that by their accurate information concerning meditated 
 violence, and their extraordinary powers of resisting and defeat- 
 ing it, the obnoxious Barons must have brought to their defence 
 means which merely human force was incapable of oveirthrow- 
 ing; so that, becoming as much feared 'as hated, they were 
 suffered for the last generation to remain unmolested. And 
 this was the rather the case, that the numerous vassals of this 
 great house were perfectly satisfied with fheir feudal superiors, 
 abundantly ready to rise in their defence, and disposed to be- 
 lieve, that, whether their lords were sorcerers or no, their own 
 condition would not be mended by exchanging their government, 
 dther for the rule of the crusaders in this holy warfare, or that 
 of the churchmen by whom it was instigated. The race of these 
 .barons ended in Herman von Arnheim, the maternal grand- 
 father of Anne of Geierstein. He was buried with his helmet, 
 sword, and shield, as is the German .cystom with the last male 
 of ri. noble family. 
 
 " But he left an only daughter, Sybilla of Arnheim, to iij- 
 herit a considerable portion of his estate ; and I never heard 
 that the strong imputation of sorcery which attached to her 
 house, prevented numerous applications, from persons of the 
 highest distinction in the Empire, to her legal guardian the 
 Emperor, for the rich heiress's hand in marriage. Albert of 
 Geierstein,. however, though an exile, obtained the preference. 
 He was gallant and handsonpe, which recommended him to 
 Sybilla ; and the Emperor, bent at the time on the vain idea of 
 recovering his authority in the Swiss mountains, was desirous 
 to show himself generous to Albert, whom he considered as a 
 fugitive from his country for espousing the Imperial cause. 
 You may thus see, most noble King Arthur, that Anne of 
 Geierstein, the only child of their marriage, descends from no 
 ordinary stock ; and that circumstances in which she may be 
 concerned, are not to be explained or judged of so easily, or 
 upon the same grounds of reasoning, as in the case of ordinary 
 persons." 
 
114 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " By my honest word, Sir Rudolph of Dbnnerhugel," said 
 Arthur, studiously laboring to keep a command upon his feel- 
 ings, " I can see nothing in your narrative, and understand 
 nothing from it, unless it be, that because in Germany, as in 
 other countries, there have been fools who have annexed the 
 idea of witchcraft and sorcery to the possession of knowledge and 
 wisdom, you are therefore disposed' to stigmatize a young 
 maiden, who has always been respected and beloved by those 
 around her, as a disciple of arts which, I trust, are as uncommon 
 as unlawful." 
 
 Rudolph paused ere he replied. 
 
 " I could have wished," he said, " that you had been satis- 
 fied with the general character of Ann6 of Geierstein's maternal 
 family, as offering some circumstances which may account for 
 ■what you have, according to your own report, this night wit- 
 nessed, and I am really unwilling to go into more particular 
 details. To no one can Anne of Geierstein's fame be so 
 dear as to me. I am, after her uncle's family, her nearest 
 relative, and had she remained in Switzerland, or should she, as 
 is most probable, return thither after the present visit to her 
 father, perhaps our connection might be drawn yet closer. 
 This has, indeed, only been prevented by certain prejudices of 
 her uncle's respecting her father's authoriiy, and the nearness 
 of our relationship, which, however, comes within reach of a 
 license very frequently obtained. But I only mention these 
 things, to show you how much more tender I must necessarily 
 -hold Anne of Geierstein's reputation, than it is possible for you 
 to do, being a stranger, known to her but a short while since, 
 and soon to part with her, as I understand your purpose, 
 forever." 
 
 The turn taken in this kind of apology irritated Arthur so 
 highly, that it required all the reasons which recommended cool- 
 ness, to enable him to answer with assumed composure. 
 
 " I can have no ground. Sir Hauptman," he said, " to chal- 
 lenge arty opinion which you may entertain of a young person 
 with whom you are so closely connected, as you appear to be 
 with Anne of Geierstein. I only wonder that, -with such regard 
 for her as your relationship implies, you should be disposed to 
 receive, on popular and trivial traditions, a belief which must 
 injuriously affect your kinswoman, more especially one with 
 whom you intimate a wish to form a still-more close connection. 
 Bethink you, sir, that in all Christian lands, the imputation of 
 sorcery is the most foul which can be thrown on Christian man 
 or woman." 
 
 " And I am so far from intimating such an imputation," said 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 115 
 
 Rudolph, somewhat fiercely, " that, by the good sword I wear, 
 he that dared give breath to such a thought against Anne of 
 Geierstein, must undergo my challenge, and take my life, or lose 
 his own. But the question is not whether the maiden herself 
 practices sorcery, which he who avers had better get ready his 
 tomb, and provide for his soul's safety ; the doubt lies here, 
 whether, as the descendant of a family, whose relations with the 
 unseen world are reported to have been of the closest degree, 
 "elfish and fantastical beings may not have power to imitate her 
 form, and to present her appearance where she is not personally 
 present — in fine, whether they have permission to play at her 
 expense fantastical tricks, which they cannot exercise over other 
 mortals, whose forefathers have ever regulated their lives by the 
 rules of the Church, and died in regular communion with it. 
 And as I sincerely desire to retain your esteem, I have no 
 objection to communicate to you more particular circumstances 
 respecting her genealogy, confirming the idea I have now 
 expressed. But you will understand they are of the most private 
 nature, and that I expect secrecy under the strictest personal 
 penalty." > , 
 
 " I shall be silent, sir," replied the young Englishman, still 
 struggling with suppressed passion, " on everything respecting 
 the character oE a maiden whom I am bound to respect so highly. 
 But the fear of no man's displeasure can add a feather's weight 
 to the guarantee oE my own honor." 
 
 "Be it so," said Rudolph ; " it is hot my wish to awake angry 
 feelings; but I am desirous, both for the sake of yoyrgood 
 opinion, which I value, and also for the plainer explanation of 
 what I have darkly intimated, to communicate to you what other- 
 wise I would much rather have left untold." 
 
 " You must be guided by your own sense of what is necessary 
 and proper in the case," answered Philipsoh ; "but remember 
 1 press not on your confidence for the communication of 
 anything that ought to remain secret, far less where that young 
 lady is the subject." 
 
 Rudolph ariswered.'after a minute's pause,—" Thou hast seen 
 and heard too' much, Arthur, not to learn the whole, or at least 
 all that I know or apprehend on the mysterious subject. It is 
 impossible but the circumstances must at times recur to your 
 recoUectioji, and I am desirous that you should possess all the 
 information necessary to understand them as clearly as, the 
 nature of the facts will permit. We have yet, keeping leftward 
 to view the bog, upward of a mile to make ere the circuit of 
 the castle is accomplished. It will afford leisure enough for 
 the tale I have to tell." ' 
 
jj5 amne of geierstein. 
 
 "Speak on— I listen!" answered the Englishman, divided 
 between his desire tp know all that it was possible to learn con- 
 cerning Aiine of Geierstein, and his dislike to hear her name 
 pronounced with such pretensions as those of Donnerhugel, 
 together with the revival of his original prejudices against the 
 gigantic Swiss, whose manners, always blunt, nearly to coarse- 
 ness, seemed now marked by assumed superiority and presump- 
 tion. Arthur listened, however, to his wild tale, and the interest 
 which he took in it soon overpowered all other sensations. ■ 
 
 CHAPTER ELEVENTH. 
 
 donnerhugel's narrative. 
 
 These be the adept's doctrines — every element 
 Is peopled with ;ts separate race of spirits. 
 The airy Sylphs on the blue ether float 
 Deep in the earthy cavern skulks the Gnome; 
 The sea-green Naiad skims the ocean billow. 
 And the fierce fire is yet a friendly home 
 To its peculiar sprite-r-the Salamander, 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
 I TOLD you (said Rudolph) that the Lordsof Arnheim, thougli 
 from father to son they were notoriously addicted to secret studies, 
 were, nevertheless, like the other German nobles, followers of 
 war and the chase. This was peculiarly the case with Anne's 
 maternal grandfather, Herman of Arnheirh, who prided himself 
 on possessing a splendid stud of horses, and one steed in par- 
 ticular, the noblest ever known in these circles of Germany. I 
 should make wild work were I to attempt a description of suqh 
 an animal, so I will content myself with saying his color was 
 jet black, without a hair of white either on his face or feet. For 
 this reason, and the wildness of his disposition, his master had 
 termed him Apollyon ; a circuimstance which was secretly con- 
 sidered as tending to sanction the evil reports which touched the 
 house of Arpheim, being, it was said, the naming of a favorite 
 animal after a foul fiend. 
 
 It chanced, one November day, that the Baron had been hunt- 
 ing in the forest, and did not reach home till nightfall. There 
 were no guests with him, for, as I hipted to you before, the Castle 
 of Arriheim seldom received any other than those from whom its 
 inhabitants hoped to gain augmentation of knowledge. The 
 
ANNE OP OEIERSTEIN. 
 
 117 
 
 Baron was seated alone in his hall, illuminated with cressets and 
 torches. His one hand held a volume covered with characters 
 unintelligible to all save himself. The other rested on the 
 marble table, on which was placed a flask of Tokay wine. A 
 page stood in respectful attendance near the bottom of the large 
 and dim apartment, and no sound was heard save that of the 
 night wind, when it sighed mournfully through the rusty coats 
 of mail, and waved the tattered banners which were the, tapestrv 
 of the feudal hall. At once the footstep of a person was heard 
 ascending the stairs in haste and trepidation; the door of the 
 hall was thrown violently open, and, terrified to a degree of 
 ecstacy, Caspar, the head of the Baron's stable, or his master 
 of horse, stumbled up almost to the foot of the table at which 
 his lord was seated, with the exclamation inhis mouth, — 
 
 " My lord, my lord, a fiend is in the stable ! " 
 
 "What means this folly ? " said the Baron, arising, surprised 
 and displeased at an interruption so unusual. 
 
 "Let me endure your diispleasure," said Caspar, "if I speak 
 not truth ! Apollyon " 
 
 Here he paused. 
 
 " Speak out, thou frightened fool," said' the Baron ; " is my 
 horse sick or injured ? " 
 
 The master of the stalls again gasped forth the word,; 
 "Apollyon!" ' 
 
 " Say on," said the Baron; "were Apollyon in presence 
 personally, it were nothing to shake a brave man's mind." 
 
 " The devil," answered the master of the horse, "is in 
 Apollyon's stall ! " 
 
 " Fool ! " exclaimed the nobleman, snatching a torch from 
 the 'wall ; " what is it that could have turned thy brain in such 
 silly fashion ? Things like thee,^ that are born to serve us, 
 should hold their brains on a firmer tenure, for our sakes, if not 
 for that of their worthless selves."'' > 
 
 As he spoke, he descended to the court of the castle, to visit 
 the stately range of stables which occupied all the lower part 
 of the quadrangle on one side. He entered, where fifty gallant 
 steeds stood in rows, on each side. of the ample hall. At the 
 side of each stall hung the weapons of offence and defence of 
 a man-at-arms, as bright as constant attention could make them, 
 together with the buff-coat which formed the trooper's under- 
 garment. The Baron, followed by one or two of the domestics, 
 who had assembled full of astonishment at the unusual alarm, 
 hastened up to the head of the stable betwixt the rows of 
 steeds. As he approached the stall of his favorite horse, which 
 was the uppermost of the right-hand row, the gallant steed 
 
Il8 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 neither neighed, nor shook his head, nor stamped with his foot,: 
 nor gave the usual signs of joy at his lord's approach ; a ^Eaint 
 moaning, as if he implored assistance, was the only acknowl- 
 edgment he gave of the Baron's presence. 
 
 Sir Herman held up the torch, and discovered that there 
 was indeed a tall dark figure standing in the stall, resting his 
 hand on the horse's shoulder. "Who art thou," said the Baron, 
 " and what dost thou here ? " 
 
 " I seek refuge and hospitality," replied the stranger ; " and 
 I conjure thee to grant it me, by the shoulder of thy horse, 
 and by the edge of thy sword, and so as they may never fail 
 thee when thy need is at the utmost ? " 
 
 "Thou art, then, a brother of the Sacred Fire," said Earon 
 Herman of Arnheim ; " and I may not refuse thee the refuge 
 which thou requires! of me, after the ritual of the Persian 
 Magi. From whoih, and for what length of time, dost thou 
 crave my protection ? " 
 
 " From thosey" replied the stranger, " who shall arrive in 
 quest of me before the morning cock shall crow, ai;d tor the 
 full space of a year and a day from this period." 
 
 " I may not refuse thee," said the Baron, "consistently with 
 my oath and my honor. For a year and a day. I will be thy 
 pledge, and thou shalt share with me roof and chamber, wine 
 and food. But thou, too, must obey the law of Zoroaster, 
 whichj as it says, Let the Stronger protect the weaker brother, 
 says also, let the Wiser instruct the brother who hath less 
 knowledge. I am the stronger, and thou shalt be safe under 
 my protection ; but thou art the wiser, and must instruct; me 
 in the more secret mysteries." 
 
 "You mock your servant," said the stranger visitor ; "but 
 if aught is known to Dannischemend which can avail Herman, 
 his instructions shall be as those of a father to a son." 
 
 "Come forth, then, from thy place of refuge," said the 
 Baron of Arnheim. "I swear to thee by the sacred fire which 
 lives without terrestrial fuel, and by the fraternity which is be- 
 twixt us, and by the shoulder of my horse, and the edge of my 
 good sword, I will be thy warrant for a .year and a day, if so 
 far my power shall extend," 
 
 The stranger came forth accordingly ; and those who saw the 
 singularity of his appearance, scarce wondered at the fears of 
 Caspar, the stall-master, when he found such a person in the 
 stable, by what mode of entrance he was unable to conceive. 
 When he reached the lighted hall, to which, the Baron con- 
 ducted him, as he would have done a welcomed and honored 
 guest, the stranger appeared to be very tall, and of a dignified 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 1 19 
 
 aspect. His dress was Asiatic, being a long black caftan, or 
 gown, like that worn by Armenians, and a lofty square cap, 
 cover&d with the wool of Astracan lambs. Every article of the 
 dress was black, which gave relief to the long white beard that 
 flowed down over his bosom. His gown was fastened by a sash 
 of black silk net-work, in which, instead of a poniard or sword, 
 was stuck a silver case, containing writing materials, and a roll 
 of parchment. The only ornament of his apparel consisted in 
 a large ruby of uncommon brilliancy, which, when he approach- 
 ed the light, seemed to glow with such liveliness, as if the gem 
 itself had emitted the rays which it only reflected back. To the 
 offer of refreshment the stranger replied, "Bread I may not 
 eat, water shall not moisten my lips, until the avenger shall 
 have passed by the threshold." 
 
 The Baron commanded the lamps to be trimmed, and fresh 
 torches to be lighted, and sending his own household to rest, 
 remained seated in the hall along with the stranger, his sup- 
 pliant. At the dead hour of midnight, the gates of the castle 
 were shaken as by a whirlwind, and a voice, as of a herald, was 
 heard to demand a herald's lawful prisoner, Dannischemend, 
 the son of Hali. The warder then heard a lower window of 
 the hall thrown open, and could distinguish his master's voice 
 addressing the person who had thus summoned' the castle. But 
 the night was so dark that he might not see the speakers, and 
 the language which they used was either entirely foreign, or so 
 largely interspersed with strange words, that he could not un- 
 derstand a syllable which they said. Scarce five minutes had 
 elapsed, when he whoVas without again elevated his voice as 
 before, and said in German, " For a year and a day, then, I 
 forbear my forfeiture ; — but coming for it when that time shall 
 elapse, I come for my right, and will no longer be withstood." 
 
 From that period, Dannischemend, the Persian, was a con- 
 stant guest at the castle of Arnheim, and, indeed, never for any 
 visible purpose crossed the drawbridge. His amusements, or 
 studies, seemed centred in th5 library of the castle, and in the 
 laboratorj', where the Baron sometimes toiled in conjunction 
 with him for many hours together. The inhabitants of the cas- 
 tle could find no f&ult in the Magus, or Persian, excepting his 
 apparently dispensing with the ordinances of religion, since he 
 neither went to mass nor confession, nor attended upon other 
 religious ceremonies. The chaplain did indeed profess himself 
 satisfied with the state of the stranger's conscience ; but it had 
 been long suspected that the Worthy ecclesiastic held his easy 
 office on the very reasonable condition of approving the princi- 
 
I20 ANNE OF GEIERSTBIN 
 
 pies, and asserting the orthodoxy, of all guests whom the Baron 
 invited to share his hospitality. 
 
 It was observed that Dannischemend was rigid in paying his 
 devotions, by prostrating himself in the first rays of the rising 
 sun, and that he constructed a silver lamp of the most beautiful 
 proportions, which he placed on a pedestal, representing a trun- 
 cated column of marble,^ having its base sculptured with hiero- 
 glyphical imaginary. With what essences he fed this flame was 
 unknown to all, unless perhaps to the Baroa; but the flame 
 was more steady, pure^ and lustrous, than any which was ever , 
 seen, ejcc^ting the sun of heaven itself; and it was generally- 
 believed that the Magian made it an object of worship in the 
 absence of that blessed lunjjhafy. , Nothing else was observed 
 of him, unless that his morals seemed severe, his gravity ex- 
 treme, his general mode of life very temperate, and his fasts 
 and vigils of; frequent recurrence. Except on pairticular occa- 
 sions, he spoke to no one of the castle but the Baron ; but as 
 he had money, and was liberal, he was regarded by the domesH., 
 tics with awe indeed, but Dvithout fear or dislike. 
 
 Winter was succeeded by spring, summer brought herti 
 flowers, and autumn her fruits, which ripened and were fading, 
 when a foot-page, who sometimes attended them in the labora- 
 tory to render manual assistance when required, heard the 
 Persian say to the Baron of Arnheimj " You will do well, my 
 son, to marjc my words ; for my, lessons to you are drawing to 
 an end, and there is no power on earth which can longer post- 
 pone my fate." . 
 
 ,. "Alas, my master !" said the Baron, " and must I then 
 Ipse the benefit of your direction, just when your guiding hand 
 becomes necessary to place me on the very pinnacle of the 
 temple of jvisdom ? " 
 
 ' " Be not discouraged, my souj" answered the p^e ; " I will 
 bequeath the task of perfecting you .m. your studies to my 
 daughter, who will come hither on.purpose. But remember, if 
 you value the permanence of youf family, look not upon her as 
 aught else than a helpmate in your studies ; for if you forget 
 the instructress in the beauty of the maiden, you will be buried ■ 
 with your sword and your shield,; as the last male of your house ; 
 and further evil, believe mej will arise ; for such alliances never 
 come to a happy, issue, of, which my own is an example. — But 
 hush, we are observed."; 
 
 , The household of the Castle of Arnheim having but few 
 things to interest them, were the more eager observers of those i 
 which came under their notice ; and when the termination of 
 the period when the Persian was to receive shelter in the castle 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 12 1 
 
 began to approach, some of the inmates, under various pretexts, 
 but which resolved into very terror, absconded, while others 
 held themselves in expectation of some s'triking and terrible 
 catastrophe. None such, however, took place ;' and on the " 
 expected anniversary, long ere the witching hour of midnight, 
 DanBischemend terminated his visit in the castle of Afhheim, 
 by riding away from the gate in the guise of an ordinary 
 traveler. The iBaron had' meantime taken leave of his tutor 
 with many marks of regret, and some which amounted even to 
 sorrow. The sage Persian comforted him by a long whisper, 
 of which the last part only was heard, — " By the first beam of 
 sunshine she will be with you. Be kind to her, but not over 
 kind." He then departed, and was never again seen or heard 
 of in the vicinity of Arnheim. . 
 
 The Baron was observed' during all the day after the de- 
 parture of the stranger to be particularly melancholy. He 
 remained, contrary to his custom, in the great hall, and neither 
 visited the library nor the laboratory, where he could: no 'longer 
 enjoy the company of his departed instructor. At dawn of the 
 ensuing morning. Sir Herman summoned hisi page, and, con- 
 trary to his habits, which used to be father careless in respect 
 of apparel, he dressed himself with great accuracy ; and, as he 
 was in the prime of life, and of noble figure, he had reason to 
 be satisfied with his appearance. Having performed his toilet,' 
 he waited till the sun had just appeared above the horizon, and, 
 taking from the table the key of the laboratory, which the page 
 believed must have lain thete all 'tiig-h't, he walked thither, fol- 
 lowed by his attendant. At the door, the Baron inade a pause, 
 and seemed at one time to doubt whether he should not send 
 away the page, at another to hesitate whether he should open 
 the door, as one might do who expected some strange' sight 
 within. He pulled up resolution, however, turned the key; 
 threw the door open, and entered. The page followed close 
 behind his master, and was astonished to the point of extreme 
 terror at what he beheld, although the sight, however extra- 
 ordinary, had in it nothing "save what was agreeable and 
 lovely. 
 
 The silver lamp was extinguished, or removed from its 
 pedestal where stood in place of it a m6st beautiful female 
 figure in the Persian costume, iti which the color of pink pre- 
 dominated. But she wore no turban or head-dress of any kind, 
 saving a blue ribbon drawn through her auburn hair, and 
 secured by a ffold clasp, the outer side of which was orna- 
 mented by a supferb opal, which ' amid the changing lights 
 
122 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 peculiar to that gem, displayed internally a slight tinge of red 
 like a spark of fire, , i 
 
 The figure of this young person was rather under the middle 
 size, but perfectly well formed; the Eastern dress, with the 
 wide trowsers gathered round the ankles, made visible the. 
 smallest and most "beautiful feet which had ever been seen; 
 while hands and arms of the most perfect symmetry were 
 partly seen from under the folds of the robe. The little lady's 
 countenance was of a lively and expressive character, in which 
 spirit and wit seemed to predominate ; and the quick dark eye, 
 with its beautifully formed eyebrow, seemed to presage the 
 arch remark, to which the rosy and half smiling lip appeared 
 ready to give utterance. ;' 
 
 The pedestal on which she, stood, or rather was perched, would, 
 have appeared unsafe had any figure heavier than her own been 
 placed there. But, however she,had been transported thither, 
 she seemed to rest on it as lightly and safely as a linnet, when 
 it has dropped from the sky on the tendril of a rosebud. The 
 first beam of the rising sun, falling through a window, directly 
 opposite to the pedestal, increased the effect of this beautiful 
 figure, which remained as motionless as if it had been carved 
 in marble. She only expressed her sense of the Baron of Am-, 
 heira's presence by something of a quicker respiration, and a 
 deep blush, accompanied by a slight smile. 
 
 Whatever reason the Baron of Arnheim might have for 
 expecting to see some such object as now exhibited its actual 
 presence, the degree, of bpauty which it presented was so much 
 beyond his expectation, that for an instant he stood without 
 breath or motion. At once, however, he seemed to recollect 
 that it was his duty to welcome the fair stranger to his castle, 
 and to relieve her from her precarious situation. He stepped 
 forward accordingly with the words of welcome on his tongue, 
 and was extending his arms to lift her from the pedpstal, which 
 was nearly six feet high ; but the light and active stranger 
 merely accepted the support of his hand, and descended on the 
 floor as light and as safe as if she had been formed of gossamer, 
 It was, indeed, only by the momentary pressure of her jittl^ 
 hand, that the Baron of Arnheim was finally made sensible that 
 he had to do with a being of flesh and blood. 
 
 " I am come as I have been commanded," she said, looking 
 around her. " You must expect a strict and diligent mistress, 
 and I hope for the credit of an attentive pupil." 
 
 After the arrival of this singular and interesting being in 
 the castle of Arnheim, various alterations took place within 
 the interior of the household. A lady of high rank and smali 
 
ANN£ OP GElSRSTkM. 
 
 123 
 
 fortune, the respectable widow of a Count of the empire, who 
 was the Baron's blood relation, received and accepted an invita- 
 tion to preside over her kinsman's domestic affairs, and remove, 
 by her countenance, any suspicions which might arise from the 
 presence of Hermione, as the beautiful Persian was generally 
 called. 
 
 The Countess Waldstetten carried her complaisance so far, 
 as to be present on almost all occasions, whether in the 
 laboratory or library, when the Baron of Arnheim received 
 lessons from, or pursued studies, with, the young and lovely 
 tutor who had been thus strangely substituted for the aged 
 Magus. If this lady's report was to be trusted, their pursuits 
 were of a most extraordinary nature, and the results which she 
 sometimes witnessed were such as to create fear as well as sur- 
 prise. But she strongly vindicated them from practicing unlaw- 
 ful arts, or overstepping the boundaries of natural science. 
 
 A better judge of such matters, the Bishop of Bamberg him- 
 self, made a visit to Arnheim, on purpose to witness the wisdom 
 of which so much was reported through the whole Rhine country. 
 He conversed with Hermione, and found her deeply impressed 
 with the truths of religion, and so perfectly acquainted with its 
 doctrines, that he compared her to a doctor of theology in the 
 dress of an Eastern dancing-girl. When asked, regarding her 
 knowledge of languages and science, he answered, that he had 
 been attracted to Arnheim by the most extravagant reports on 
 these points, but that he must return confessing " the half 
 thereof had not been told unto him." 
 
 In consequence of this indisputable testimony, the sinister 
 reports which had been occasioned by the singular appearance 
 of the fair stranger were in a great measure lulled to sleep, 
 especially as her amiable manners won the involuntary good- 
 will of every one that approached her. 
 
 Meantime a marked alteration began to take place in the 
 interviews between the lovely tutor and her pupil. These were 
 conducted with the same caution as before, and never, so far as 
 could be observed, toot place without the presence of the 
 Countess of Waldstetten,or some other third person of respect- 
 ability. But the scenes of these meetings were no longer the 
 scholar's library, or the chemist's laboratory ;— the gardens, the 
 groves, were resorted to for amusement, and parties of hunting 
 and fishing, with evenings spent in the dance, seemed to 
 announce that the studies of wisdom were for a time abandoned 
 for the pursuits of pleasure. It was not difficult to guess the 
 meaning of this ; the Baron of Arnheim and his fair guest, 
 speaking a language different from all others, could enjoy their 
 
124 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 private conversation, even amid all the tumult of gayety around 
 them j and no one was surprised to hear it formally announced, 
 after a few weeks of gayety, that the fair Persian was to be 
 wedded to the Baron of Arnheim. 
 
 .. The manners of this fascinating young person were so pleas- 
 ing, her conversation so animated, her wit so keen, yet so well 
 tempered with good nature and modesty, that, notwithstanding 
 her unknown origin, her high fortune attracted less envy than 
 might have been expected in a case so singular. Above all, her 
 generosity amazed and won the hearts of all the young persons 
 who approached her. Her wealth seemed to be measureless, 
 for the many rich jewels which she distributed among her fair 
 friends would other\yise have left her without ornaments for 
 herself. These good qualities, her liberality above all, together 
 with a simplicity of thought and character, which formed a 
 beautiful contrast to the depth of acquired knowledge which 
 she was well known to possess, — these, and her total want of 
 ostentation,, made her superiority be pardoned among her com- 
 panions. Still there was notice taken of some peculiarities, 
 exaggerated perhaps by envy, which seemed to draw a mystical 
 distinction between the beautiful Hermione and the mere mor- 
 tals with whom she lived and conversed. 
 
 In the merry dance she was so unrivaled in lightness and 
 agility, that her performance seemed that of an aerial being. 
 She could, without suffering from her exertion^ continue the 
 pleasure till she had tired out the most- active revelers ; and 
 even the young Duke of Hochspringen, who was reckoned the 
 most indefatigable at that exercise in Germany, having been 
 her partner for half-an-hour, was compelled to break off the 
 dance, and throw . himself, totally exhausted, on a couch, ex- 
 claiming he had been dancing not with a woman, but with an 
 ignis fatuus. 
 
 Other whispers averred, that while she played with her young 
 companions in the labyrinth and mazes of the Casile gardens at 
 hide-and-seek, or similar games of activity, she became animated 
 with the same supernatural alertness which was supposed tO' in- 
 spire her in the dance. She appeared amongst her companions^ 
 and vanished from them, with a degree of rapidity which was 
 inconceivable ; and hedges, treillage, or such like obstructions 
 were surmounted by her in a manner which the most vigilant 
 eye could not detect ; for, after being observed on the side of 
 the barrier at one instant, in 'another she was beheld close be- 
 side the spectator. 
 
 In such moments, when her eyes sparkled, her cheeks red- 
 dened, and. her whole frame became animated, it was pretended 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 125 
 
 that the opal clasp amid her tresses, the ornament which she t 
 never laid aside, shot forth the little spark, or tongue of flame, 
 which it always displayed, with an increased vivacity.,, In the 
 same manner, if in the half-darkened hall the conversation of 
 Herraione became unusually animated, it was believed that the 
 jewel became brilliant, and even displayed a twinkling and' 
 flashing gleam which seemed to be emitted by the gem itself, 
 and not procjuced in the usual manner, by the reflection of 
 some external light. Her maidens were also heard to surmise, 
 that when their mistress was agitated by any hasty or brief re- 
 sentment (the only weakness of, temper which she was some- 
 , times observed to display), they could observe dark-red, sparks 
 flash from the mystic brooch, as if it sympathized with the 
 wearer's emotions. The women who attended on her toilet 
 further reported that this gem was never removed but for a few 
 minutes, when the Baroness's hair was combed out ; that she 
 was unusually pensive and silent during the time it was laid 
 aside, and particularly apprehensive when any liquid was 
 brought near it. Even in the use of holy water at the door of 
 the church, she was observed to omit the sign of the crosson 
 the forehead, for fear, it was supposed, of the water touching 
 the valued jewel. 
 
 These singular reports did not prevent the marriage of the 
 Baron of Arnheim from proceeding as had been arranged. It 
 was celebrated in the usual form, and with the utmost splendor, 
 and the young qpuple seemed to commence a life of happiness 
 rarely to be found on earth. In the course of twelve months,, 
 the lovely Baroness presented her husband with' a daughter, 
 which was to he christened Sybilla, after the Count's mother. 
 i\sthe health of the child was excellent, the ceremony was 
 postponed till the recovery of the mother from her confinement ; 
 many were invited to be present on the occasion, and the castle 
 was thronged with company. 
 
 ■ It happened, that amongst the guests was an old lady, no- 
 torious for playing in private society the part of a malicious 
 fairy in a minstrel's tale. This was the Baroness of Steinfeldt, 
 famous in tTie neighborhood for her insatiable curiosity and 
 overweening pride. She had not been many days m the 
 castle, ere, by the aid of a female attendant, who acted as an 
 intelligencer, she had made herself mistress of all that was 
 heard, said, or suspected, concerning the peculiarities of the 
 Baroness Hermione. It was on the morning of the day ap- 
 pointed for the christening, , while the whole company were 
 assembled in the hall, and waiting till the Baroness should 
 appear, to pass with them to the chapel, that there arose be- 
 
126 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 tween the censorious and haughty dame whom we have just^' 
 mentioned, and the Countess Waldstetten, a violent discussion 
 concerning some point of disputed precedence. It was referred 
 to the Baron von Arnheim, who decided in favor of the Coun- 
 tess. Madame de Steinfeldt instantly ordered her palfrey to 
 be prepared, and her attendants to mount. 
 
 " I leave this place," she said, " which a good Christian 
 ought never to have entered ; I leave a house of which the 
 master is a sorcerer, the mistress a demon who dares not cross 
 her brow with holy water, and their trencher companion one, 
 who for a wretched pittance is willing to act as matchmaker 
 between a wizard and an incarnate fiend ! " 
 
 She then departed with rage in her countenance, and spite 
 in her heart. 
 
 The Baron of Arnheim then stepped forward, and demanded 
 of the knights and gentlemen around, if there were any among 
 them Who would dare to make good with his sword the in- 
 famous falsehoods thrown upon himself, his spouse, and his 
 kinswoman. 
 
 There was a general answer, utterly refusing to defend the 
 Baroness of Steinfeldt's words' in so bad a cause, and univer- 
 sallv testifying the belief of the company that she spoke in the 
 spirit of calumny and falsehood. 
 
 " Then let that lie fall to the ground, which no man of 
 courage will hold up," said the Baron of Arnheim ; " only, all 
 who are here this morning shall be satisfied whether the 
 Baroness Hermione doth or doth not share the rites of 
 Christianity." 
 
 The Countess of Waldstetten made anxious signs to him 
 while he spoke thus ; and when the crowd permitted her to 
 approach near him, she was heard to whisper, " O, be not 
 rash ! try no experiment ! there is something mysterious about 
 that opal talisman ; be prudent, and let the matter pass by." 
 
 The Baron; who was in a more towering passion than well 
 became the wisdom to which he made pretence — although it 
 will be perhaps allowed that an affront so public, and in such 
 a time and place, was enough to shake the prudence of the ' 
 most staid, and the philosophy of the most wise — answered 
 sternly and briefly^ " Are you, too, such a fool ?" and retained 
 his purpose. 
 
 The Baroness of Arnheim at this moment entered the hall, 
 looking just so pale from her late confinement, as to render 
 her lovely countenance more interesting, if less animated, than 
 usual. Having paid her compliments to the assembled com- 
 pany, with the most graceful and condescendinjg attention, she 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 127 
 
 was beginning to inquire why Madame de Steinfeldt was not 
 present, when her husband made the signal far the company 
 to move forward to the chapel, and lent the Baroness his arm 
 to bring up the rear. The chapel was nearly, filled by the 
 splendid cowfpany, and all eyes were bent on their host and 
 hostess, as' they entered th^ place of devotion immediately 
 after four young ladies, who supported the^ infant babe in a 
 light and beautiful litter; 
 
 As they passed the threshold, the Baron dipt his finger in 
 the font-s^one, and offered holy-water to , his lady, whp accepted 
 it, as usual, by touching his finger with her own. But then, as 
 if to confute the calumnies of the malevolent lady of Stein- 
 feldt, with an air of sportive familiarity which was rather un- 
 warranted by the time and place, he flirted on her beautiful 
 forehead a drop or two of the moisture which remained on his 
 own hand. The opal, on which one of these drops had lighted, 
 shot out a brilliant spark like a falling star, and became the 
 instant afterward ligblless and colorless as a common pebble, 
 while the beautiful Baroness sunk on the floor of the chapel 
 with a deep sigh of pain. All crowded around her in dismay. 
 The unfortunate Hermione was raised fi'om the ground, and 
 conveyed to her chamber ; and so much did her countenance 
 and pulse alter, within the short time necessary to do this, that 
 those who looked upon her pronounced her a dying woman. 
 She was no sooner in heriown apartment than she requested to 
 be left alone with her husband. He remained an hour in the 
 room, and when he came out he locked and double locked the 
 door behind him. . He then be;tOok himself to the chapel, and 
 remained there for an hour or more, prostrated before the 
 altar. 
 
 In the meantime most oJE the guests had dispersed in dismay; 
 though some abode out of courtesy or curiosity. There was a 
 geiieral sense of impropriety in su,££ering the door'of the sick 
 l:).dy's apartment to remain locked ; but, alarmed at the whole 
 circumstances of her illness, it was some time ere any one dared 
 disturb the devotions of the Baron. At length inedical aid 
 arrived, and^ the Countess of Waldstetten took upon ier to 
 demand the key. She spoke more than once to a man, who 
 seemed incapable of hearing, at least of understanding what she 
 said. .At length he gav'e her the key, and added sternly, as 
 he did' so, that all ,aid. was unavailing, and that it was his 
 pleasure that all strangers should leave the castle. There were 
 few who inclined to stay, when, upon opening the door of the 
 qhamber in which the Baroness had been deposited little more 
 than two hours before, no traces of her could be discovered, 
 
128 ANNE' OF GEIERSTETN. 
 
 unless that there was about a handful of light gray ashes, like 
 such as might have been ptoduced by burning fitie pa:per; found 
 on the bed where she had been laid. A solemn funeral was 
 nevertheless performed, with masses, and all other spiritual 
 rites, for the soul of the high and noble Lady Hermione of 
 Arnheim ; and it was exactly on that same day three years 
 that the Baron himself was laid in the gravfe of the same chapel 
 of Arnheim, witli sword, shield,, and helmet,' as the last male of 
 his family. ' ' i ^ 
 
 Here the Swiss paused, foi- they were approaching the bridge 
 of the castle of Graffs-lust. ' 
 
 CHAPTER TWELFTH. 
 
 Believe me, sir, 
 
 It carries a rare form — Bat 'tis a spirit. 
 
 The Tempest. 
 # 
 
 There was a short silence after the Bernese had concluded 
 his singular tale. Arthur Philipson's attention had been gradu- 
 ally and intensely attracted by a story, which was too milch in 
 unison with the received ideas of the age to be etiCbuVitered by 
 the unhesitating incredulity with which it must have been heard 
 in later and more enlightened times. 
 
 He was also considerably struck by the manner in which it 
 had been told by the narrator, whom he had hitherto only 
 regarded iti the light of a rude huntsman or soldier ; whereas 
 1 he now allowed Donnerhugel credit for a more extensive 
 " acquaintance' with the general manners of the world than lie 
 had previously anticipated. The Swiss rose in his opinion as a 
 man of talent, but without making the slightest progress in his 
 affections. "The swash-buckler," he said to himself, "has 
 brains, as well as brawn and bones, and is fitter for the office 
 of commanding others than I formerly thought him." Then, 
 turning to his companion, he thanked him for the tale, which 
 had shortened the way in so interesting a manner. 
 
 "And itis from this singular marriage," he continued, "that 
 Anne of Geierstein derives hei" origin ? " • 
 
 _ " Her mother," answered the Swiss, " was Sybilla of Arn- 
 heim, the infant at whose christening the mother died— disap- 
 peared— or whatever you may list to call it. The barony of 
 Arnheim, being a malie fief, reverted to the Emperor. The 
 castle has neVer been itiha'bited since the death of tlie last lord ; 
 
ANT/E OF GEIERSTEIN. ■ 129 
 
 and has, as I have heard, become in some sort ruinous. The 
 
 'occupations of its ancieht proprietors, and, above all, the catas- 
 trophe of its last-inhabitant, have been thought to render it no 
 eligible, place of residence." 
 
 " Did there appear anything preternatural,'' said the English- 
 man, " about the young Baroness, who married the brother oi 
 the Landcimman ? " , 
 
 "So far as I have heard," replied Rudolph, "there were 
 strange stories. It was said that the nurses, at the dead of 
 night, have seen Hermione, the last Baroness ofArnheim, stand 
 weeping by the side of the chiTd's cradle, and other things to the 
 same purpose. But here I speak from less correct information 
 than that from which I dreW my former narrative." 
 
 ." And since the credibility Qf a story,, not very probable in 
 itself, must needs be granted, or withheld, according to the 
 evidence on which it is given, may I ask you,"' said Arthur, 
 "to tell me what is the authority on which you have so much 
 reliance ? " ' 
 
 "Willingly," answered the Swiss.. "Know that Theodore 
 Donnerhu^el, the favorite -pkge' of the last Baron of Arnheim, 
 was my father's brother. Upon his, master's death he retired 
 to his native town of Berne,'and most of his time was employed 
 in training me up to arms and martial exerciSeS, as well accord- 
 ing to the fashion of Germany' as of Switzerland, for he' was 
 master of all. He witnessed' with his own eyes, and heard with 
 his own ears, great part of the melancholy and rftysterious events 
 W|hich I have detailed to you. Should you ever visit Berne, you 
 may see the good old man." 
 
 " You tliink, then," said Arthur, "that the apJDearance which 
 I have this night seen is connected with the mysterious marriage 
 of Anne of Geierstein's grandfather ? " 
 
 " Nay," replied Rudolph, " think not that I ca!n lay down 
 any positive explanation of a thing so strange.' I can only say, 
 that unless I did you the injustice to disbelieve your testimony 
 respecting the apparition of this evening, I know no way to 
 account for it, except by remembering that there is a portion of 
 ■the young lady's blood which is thought not to be derived from 
 the race of Adam, but more or' less directly from one of. those 
 elementary spirits which have been talked of both in ancient and 
 modem times. But! may be mistaken. We will see how she 
 bears herself'in the morning, and whether, she carries in her 
 looks the weariness arid paleness of. a midnight watcher. If 
 ■ she doth npt, we may Ise authorized in thinking, either that your 
 eyes have strangely deceived you, ,or,that they have been cheated 
 by some spectral appearance, which js not of this world." 
 
i^o ANN^E OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 To, this the young Englishman attempted no reply, nor was 
 there time for any ; for they were immediately afterward chal- 
 lenged by the sentinel from the drawbridge. 
 
 The question, " Who goes there ? " was twice satisfactorily 
 answered, before Sigismund would admit the patrol to cross the 
 drawbridge. , , , 
 
 " Ass and mule that thou art," said Rudolph, "what was the 
 meaning of thy delay ? " 
 
 " Ass and mule thyself, Hauptman," said the Swiss, in an- 
 swer to this objurgation. " I have been surprised by a goblin 
 on my post once to-night already, and I have got so much 
 "experience upon that matter, that I will not easily be caught a 
 second time." . 
 
 "What goblin, thou fool," said Donnerhugel, "would, be 
 idle enough to play his gambols at the expense of so very poor 
 an animal as thou art ? " 
 
 " Thou art as cross as my father, Hauptman," replied Sigis- 
 mund, "whO: cries fool and blockhead at every word I speak; 
 and yet I have lips, teeth, arid tongue to speak with, just likp' 
 other folk." 
 
 "We will not contest the matter, Sigismund," said Rudolph. 
 "It is clear, that if thou dost differ froip other people, it is in 
 a particular which t}iou canst be hardly expected to find out or 
 acknowledge. But what, in the name of simplicity, is it which 
 hath alarmed thee on thy post ? " 
 
 " Marry, thus it was, Hauptman," returned Sigismund Bied- 
 erman. " I was something tired, you see, with looking up at 
 the broad moon, and thinking what in the universe it could be 
 made of, and how we came to see it just as well here as at 
 home, this place being so many miles from Geier^tein. 1 was 
 tired, I say, of this and other perplexing thoughts, so I drew | 
 my fur cap down over my ears, for I promise you the wind blew 
 shrill ; and then I planted rnyself , firm on my feetj with one of 
 my legs a little advanced, and both my hands resting on my 
 partisan, which I placed upright before me to rest upon ; and 
 so I shut mine eyes." 
 
 " Shut thine eyes, Sigismund, and thou upon thy watch ! " 
 exclaimed Donnerhugel. 
 
 " Care not thou for that," answered Sigismund ; " I kept 
 my ears open. And yet it was to little purpose, for something 
 came upon tjie bridge with a step as stealthy as that of a 
 mouse. I looked up with a start at the moment it was opposite , 
 to me, and when I looked up — whom think you I saw ? " 
 
 " Some fool like thyself," , said Rudolph, at the same time 
 pressing Philipson's foot to make him attend to the answer ; a 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 131 
 
 * 
 
 hint which was little necessary, since he waited for it in the 
 utmost agitation. Out it came at last. 
 
 " By Saint Mark, it was our own Anne of Geierstein ! " 
 
 " It is impossible ! "replied the Bernese. 
 . ,"1 should have said so too," tjuoth Sigismund, " for I had 
 peeped into her bedroom before she went thither, and it was so 
 bedizened that a queen or a princess might have slept in it ; 
 and why should the wench get out of her godd quarters, with 
 all her friends about her to guard her, and go out to wander in 
 the forest ? " . 
 
 " May be," said Rudolph, " she only looked from the bridge 
 to see how the night waned." ' 
 
 " No," said Sigismund ; "she was returning from the forest. 
 I saw her when she reached the end of the bridge, and thought 
 of striking at her, conceiving it to be the devil in her likeness. 
 But I remembered my halberd is no birch switch to chastise 
 boys and girls with ; and had. I done Anne any harm, you 
 would all have been angry with me, and, to speak truth, I 
 should have been ill' pleased with myself; for although she 
 doth make a jest of me now and then, yet it were a dull house 
 ours were we to lose Anne." 
 
 " Ass," answered the Bernese, " didst thou speak to this 
 form, dr goblin as you call it .? " 
 
 " Indeed I did not, CSptain Wiseacre. My father is ever angry 
 with me when I speak without thinking, and I could not at that 
 particular moment think on anything to the purpose. Neither 
 was there time to think, fdr she passed me'like a snowflake upon 
 a whirlwind. I marched into the castle after her, however, call- 
 ing on her by name ; so the sleepers were awakened, and men 
 flew to their arms, and there was as much confusion as if Archi- 
 bald of Hagenbach had been among us with sword and pikfe^. 
 And who should come outof her little bedroom, as much startled 
 and as much in a bustle as any of us, but Mrs. Anne herself! 
 And as she protested she had never left her room that night, 
 why I, Sigismund Biederman, was made to stand the whole 
 blame, as if I could prevent people's ghosts from walking. But 
 I told her my mind when I saw them all so set against me. 
 'And, mistress Anne,' qyoth I, 'it's well known the kindred you 
 come of ; and after this fair notice, if you send any of your 
 double-gangers * to me, let them put iron skull-caps on their 
 heads, fori will give them the length and weight of a Swiss 
 halberd, come in what shape they list.' However, they all 
 
 * Double^walkers, a name in Germany for those aerial duplicates of 
 humanity wlio represent the features and appearance of other living 
 persons. 
 
132 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 .called ' shame on me ! ' and my father drove me out again, 
 with as little remorse as if I had, been the, old l^ouse--dog^ which 
 had stolen in from, his watch to the fireside." 
 
 The Bernese replied, with an air of coldness approaching 
 to,contempt, "You have slept on your watch, Sigismund, a high 
 military offence, and you have dreamed while you slept. Ypu 
 were in good luck that the Landamman, did not suspect your 
 negligence, or, instead of being sent back to your duty like a 
 lazy watch-dog, you might have been gcourged back like a faith- 
 less one to your kennel at Geierstein, as chanced to poor Ernest 
 for a less matter." 
 
 " Ernest has not yet gone back though," said Sigismund, 
 " and I think he may pass as far into Burgundy as we shall do 
 in this journey. I pray you, however, Hauplman, to treat me 
 rot dog-like, but as a man, and send some one to reJieve me, 
 instead of prating here in the cold night air. If there be any- 
 thing to do to-morrow, as I well guess there may, a mouthful 
 of food, and a minute of sleep, will be but a fitting preparative, 
 and I have stood watch here these two mortal hours." 
 
 With that the youiig giant yawned portentoijsly, as if to 
 enforce the reasons of his appeal. 
 
 " A mouthful and a minute .'' " said Rudolph, — " a roasted 
 ox and a lethargy like that of the Seven Sleepers would scarce 
 restore you to the use of your refreshed and waking senses. 
 But I am your friend, Sigismund, and you are secure, in my 
 favorable report ; you shall be instantly relieved, that you may 
 sleep, if it be possible, without disturbances from dreams. — 
 Pass on, young men " (addressing the others, w;ho by this time 
 had come up), " and go to your rest ; Arthur of England and I 
 will report to the Landamman and the Banneret the account of 
 our patrol." 
 
 The patrol accordingly entered the castle, and were soon 
 heard joining their slunjbering companions., Rudolph Donner- 
 hugel seized Arthur's arm, and while they went toward the 
 hall, whispered in his ear, — 
 
 " These are strajige passages ! — How think you we should 
 report them to the deputation ? " ^ 
 
 " That I must refer to yourself," said' Arthur; "you are the 
 captain of our watch. I haye done my duty in telling you what 
 I saw— or thought I saw-^it is for you to judge how far it is 
 fitting to communicate it to the Landamman; only, as it con- 
 cerns the honor of his family, to his ear alone I think it should 
 be confided." 
 
 " I see no occasion for that," said the Bernese hastily ; "it 
 
ANNE Of GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 i33 
 
 cannot afEect or interest our general safety. ' But I may take 
 occasion hereafter to speak with, Anne on, this subject." 
 
 This latter hint ga-i^e as much pain to Arthur, as the general 
 proposal of silence on an affair so delicate had afforded him 
 satisfaction. But his uneasiness Was of a kind which he felt it 
 necessary to suppress, and, he therefore replied with as' much 
 composure as he could assume : — 
 
 "You will act. Sir Hauptman, as your sense of duty and 
 delicacy shall dictate. For me, I shall be silent on what you 
 call the strange passages of the night, rendered doubly wonder- 
 ful by the report of Sigismund Biedeiman." 
 
 And also on what you have seen and heard concerning our 
 auxiliaries of .Berne ? " said Rudolph. 
 
 " On that I shall certainly Tdc silent," said Arthur; " unless 
 thus far, that I mean to communicate to my father the risk 
 of his baggage being liable to examination and seizure at La 
 Ferette." 
 
 "It is needless," said Rudolph; I will answer with head 
 and hand for the safety of everything belonging to him." 
 
 " I thank you in his name," said. Arthur ; " but we are 
 peaceful travelers, to whom it must be much more desirable to 
 avoid a broil, than to give occasion for one, even when secure 
 of coming out of it triumphantly." 
 
 " These are the sentiments of a merchant, but not of a 
 soldier," said Rudolph, in a cold and displeased tone ; " but 
 the matter is your own, and 3'ou must act in it, as you think 
 best. Only remember, if j'ou go to La Ferette without our 
 assistance, you hazard both goods arid life." 
 
 They entered, as he spoke, the apartment of their fellow- 
 travelers. The, companions of their patrol had already laid 
 themselves down amongst their sleeping comrades at the lower 
 end of the room. The Landamman and the Bannerman of 
 Berne heai-d Donnerhugel make a report, that his patrol, both 
 before and after midnight, had been made in safety, and wirk- 
 out any, encounter which expressed either danger or suspicion. 
 The Bernese then wrapped him in his cloak, and lying down on 
 the straw, with that happy indifference to accommodation, and 
 promptitude to seize the moment of repose, which is acquired 
 by a life of vigilance and hardship, was in a few minutes fast 
 asleep. 
 
 Arthur remained on foot but a. little longer, to dart an 
 earnest look on the, door of Anne of Geierstein's apartment, and 
 to refipcton the wonderful occurrences of the evening. But 
 they formed a chaotic mystery, for which he could see no clew 
 and the necessity of holding instant communication with his 
 
134 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 father compelled him forcibly to turn his thoughts in that 
 direction. He was obliged to observe caution 'and secrecy in 
 accomplishing his purpose. For this he laid himself dowri 
 beside his' parent, whose couch, with the hosfjitality whi'c'h he 
 had experienced from the beginning of his intercourse with the 
 kind-hearted Swiss, had been arranged in what was thought 
 the most convenient place of the apartment, and somewhat 
 apart from all others. He slept sound, but awoke at the 
 touch of his son, who whispered to him in English^ for the 
 greater precaution, that he had important tidings for his private! 
 ear. 
 
 " An attack on our post ? " — said the elder Philipson ; " must 
 we take to our weapons ? " 
 
 " Not now," said Arthur ; " and I pray of you not to rise 
 or make alarm — this matter concerns us alone." 
 
 "Tell it instantly, my son," replied his father ; " you speak 
 to one too much used to danger to be startled at it." 
 
 ". It is a case for your , wisdom to consider," said Arthur. 
 " I had information while upon the patrol, that the Governor 
 of La Ferette will unquestionably seize upon your baggage and 
 merchandise, under, pretext of levying dues claimed by the 
 Duke of Burgundy. I have also been informed that our escort 
 of Swiss youth are determined to resist this exaction, and' con- 
 ceive themselves possessed of the numbers and means sufficient 
 to do so successfully." 
 
 " By St. George, that must not be ! " said the elder Philip- 
 son ; " it would be an evil requital to the true-hearted Lan- 
 damman, to give the fiery Duke a pretext for that war which 
 the excellent old man is so anxiously desirous to avoid, if it be 
 possible. Any exactions, however unreasonable, I will gladly 
 pay. But to have my papers seized on we're utter ruin. I 
 partly feared this, and it made me unwilling td join myself to ' 
 the Landamman's jDarty. We must noiJv break off from it. 
 This rapacious governor will not surely lay hands oti the depu- 
 tation which seeks his master's court under protection of the 
 law of nations ; but I can easily see how he might make out 
 presence with them a pretext for quarrel, which will equally 
 suit his own avaricious spirit and the humor of these fiery 
 young men, who are seeking for matter of offence. This shall 
 not betaken for our sake. We will separate ourselves from 
 the deputies, and remain "behind till they are passed on. If 
 this De Hagenbach be not the rnost unreasona!ble of men, I 
 will find a way to content him so far as we are individually 
 concerned. Meanwhile, I will instantly wake the Landamman," 
 he said, " and acquaint him with our purpose." 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 135 
 
 This was Immediately done, for Philipson was not slow in 
 the execution of his resolutions. In a minute he was standing 
 by the side of Arnold Biederman, who, raised on his elbow, was 
 listening to his communication, while over the shoulder of the 
 Landamman, rose the head and long beard of the deputy from 
 Schwytz, his large clear blue eyes gleaming from beneath a fur 
 cap, bent on the Englishman's face, but stealing a glance aside 
 now and then to mark the impression which what was said 
 made upon' his colleague. '' ' 
 
 "Good friend and host," said the elder Philipson, "we have 
 heard for a certainty that our poor merchandise will be sub- 
 jected to taxation or seizure on our passage through La Ferette, 
 and I would gladly avoid all cause of quarrel, for your sake as 
 well as our own." '•'''' 
 
 " You do not ddubt that we can and will protect you," re- 
 plied the Lsndamman. " I tell you, Englishman, that the 
 guest of a Swiss is as safe by his side as an eaglet under the 
 wing of its dam ; and to leave us because danger approaches, 
 is but a poor compliment to our courage or constancy. I am 
 desirous of peace ; but not the Duke of Burgundy himself 
 should wrong a guest of ming, so far as my power might pre- 
 vent it." 
 
 At this the deputy from Schwytz clenched a fist like a bull's 
 knuckles, and showed it above the' shoulders of his friend. 
 
 " It is even to avoid this, hiy worthy host," replied Philip- 
 son, "that I intended to separate from your friendly comjaany 
 sooner than I desire or jpurposed. Bethink you, my brave and 
 worthy host, you are an ambassador seeking a national peace, 
 I a trader' seeking private gain. War, or quarrels which may 
 cause war, are alike ruinous to your purpose and mine. I 
 confess to you frankly, that 'I am willing and able to pay a 
 large ransom, and when you are departed 1 will negotiate for 
 the amount. I will abide in' the town of Bile ti'll I have made 
 fair terms with Archibald de Hagenbach ; and even if he is the 
 avaricious extortioner you describe him, he will be somewhat 
 moderate with me rather than run the risk of losing his booty 
 entirely, by my turning back, or taking another route." 
 
 " You speak wisely. Sir Englishman," said the Landamman ; 
 " and I thank you for recalling my duty to my remembrance. 
 But you must not, nevertheless, be exposed to danger. So 
 soon as we move forward, the country will be again open; to > 
 the dev'astations of the Burgiindian Riders and Lanz-knechts, 
 wbo will sweep the roads in every direction. The people of 
 Bale are unhappily' too timdrous to protect you ; they would 
 yield you up upon the Governor's first hint ; and for justice cir 
 
136 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Jenity, you ijiight as well expect it in hell as feom Hagen- 
 bach." 
 
 " There are conjurations, it is said, that can make hell itself 
 tremble," said Philipson ; " and I have means to propitiate 
 even this De Hagenbach, providing I can get to private speech 
 with hini, But, I own, I can expect nothing from his wild 
 riders, but to be put to death for the value of my cloak." 
 
 "If that' be the case," said the Landamman, " and if you 
 niust needs separate from us, for which .1 deny not that you 
 have alleged wise and worthy reasons, wherefore should you not 
 leave Graffs-lust two hours before us ? The roads will be safes, 
 as our escort is expected ; and you will probably, if you travel 
 early, find De Hagenbach sober, and as capable as he ever is 
 of hearing reason — that is, of perceiving his own interest. But, 
 after his breakfast is washed down with Rhine-wein, which he 
 drinks every morning before he hears mass, his fury blinds even 
 his avarice." 
 
 " All I want, in order to execute this scheme," said Philip- 
 son, " is the loan of a mule to carry my valise, which is packed 
 up with your baggage." / 
 
 " Take this she-mule," said the Landamman , " she belongs 
 to my brother here from Schwytz ; he will gladly bestow her on 
 thee." 
 
 " If she were worth twenty crowns, and my cqmjrade Arnold 
 . desired me to dp so," said the old whitebeard. 
 
 "I will accept her as a loan with gratitude," said the Eng- 
 lishman. " But how can you dispense with the use pf the 
 creature ? You have only one left." 
 
 " We can easily supply our want from Bale," said the Lan- 
 damman. " Nay, we can make this little delay serve your pur- 
 pose. Sir Englishman. I named for our time of departure the 
 first hour after daybreak; we will postpone it to the second 
 hour, which will give us enough of time to get a horse or 
 mule, and yoUj Sir Philipson, space to reach La Ferette, where 
 I trust you will have achieved your bus,ine,ss. with De Hagen- 
 bach to your contentment, and will join company again with 
 us as we travel through Burgundy." 
 
 " If our mutual objects will permit our traveling together, 
 worthy Landamman," answered the merchant, " I shall esteem 
 myself most happy in becoming the partner of your journey. — 
 ,Ai^ now resume ihe repose which I have interrupted." 
 
 " God bless you, wise and true-hearted man," said the Lan- 
 damman, rising and embracing the Englishman. " Should we 
 never meet again, I will still remember the merchant who 
 •neglected thoughts of gain, that he might keep the path of 
 
ANNE OF CEIEliSTEI^. 137 
 
 wisdom and rectitude. I know not another who would not 
 have risked the shedding a lake of blood to save five ounces of 
 gold. — Farewell, thou, too, gallant ^oung man. Thou hast 
 learned among us to keep thy foot firm while on the edge of a 
 Helvetian crag, but none can teach thee so well as thy father, 
 to keep an upright path among the morasses and precipices of 
 human life." 
 
 He then embraced and took a kind farewell of his friends, 
 in which, as "usual, he was imitated by his friend of Scljwytz, wlio 
 swept with his long beard the tight and left cheeks of both the 
 Englishmen, and again made them heartily welcorne to the use 
 of his mule. All then once more composed themselves to rest, 
 for the Space which remained before the appearance of the 
 autumnal dawn. 
 
 CHAPTER THlRTEElsrTH. 
 
 The enmity and disdord, which of late 
 Sprung from the rancorous Outrage of your Duke 
 To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, — 
 Who, wailting guilders to redeem their lives, 
 Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods, 
 Excludes all pity from our threat'ning looks. 
 
 Comedy of Errors. 
 
 The dawn had scarce begun to touch the distant horizon, when 
 Arthur Philipson was on foot to prepare for his father's departure 
 and his own, which, as arranged on the preceding night, was to 
 take place two hours before the Landamman and his attendants 
 proposed to leave the ruinous castle of Grafifs-lust. It was no 
 difficult matter for him to separate the neatly arranged packages 
 which contained his father's effects, from the clumsy bundles in 
 which the baggage of the Swiss was deposited.' The one set of 
 mails was made up with the neatness of men accustomed to long 
 and perilous journeys ; the other, with the rude carelessness of 
 those who rarely left their horfle, and who Were altogether inex- 
 perienced. • 
 
 A 'servant of the Landamman assisted Arthur in this task, 
 and in placing his father's baggage on the mule belonging to 
 the bearded' deputy f tom Schwytz. From this man also he 
 received instructions concerning the road from Graffs-lust to 
 Breisach (the chief citadel of La Ferette), which was too plain 
 and direct to rendfer it likely that they should incur any risk 
 
J 38 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 of losing their way, as had befallen them when traveling on the 
 Swiss mountains. Everything being now prepared for their 
 departure, the young Englishman awakened his father, and 
 acquainted him that all*was ready. Efe then retired' toward 
 the, chimney, while his father, according to his daily custom, 
 repeated the prayer of St. Julian, );he patron of travelers, and 
 adjusted his dress for the journey. 
 
 • It will not be wondered at, that, while f he father went 
 through his devotions, and equipped himself for travel, Arthur, 
 with his heart full of what he had seen of Amie of Geierst^ein 
 for some time before, and his brairi dizzy with, the recollection 
 of the incidents of the preceding night, should have kept his 
 eyes riveted, on the door of the sleeping apartment at which 
 he had last seen that young person disappear ; that is, unless 
 the pale, and seemingly fantastic form, which had twice crossed 
 him so strangely, should prove no wandering spirit of the 
 elements, but the living substance of the person whose appear- 
 ance it bore. So eager was his^ curiosity on this subject, that 
 he strained his eyes to the utmost, as if it had been possible 
 for them to have penetrated through wood and walls into the 
 chamber of the slumbering maiden, in order to discover whether 
 her eye or cheek bore any mark thgt she had last night been a 
 watcher or a wanderer. 
 
 " But that was the proof to which Rudolph appealed," he 
 said, internally, " and Rudolph alone will have the opportunity 
 of remarking the result. Who knows what advantage my 
 communication may give him in his suit with yonder lovely 
 creature 'i And what must she think of me, save as one light 
 of thought and loose of tongue, to whom notching extraordinary 
 can chance, but he must hasten to babble it into the ears of 
 those who are nearest to him at the moment ? I would my tongue 
 had been palsied ere I said a syllable to yonder proud, yet wily 
 prize-fighter ! I shall never see her more — that is to be counted 
 for certain. I shall never know the true interpretation of those 
 mysteries which hang around her. But to think I may have 
 prated something tending to throw her into the power of )'onder 
 ■ferocious boor, will be a subject of remorse to me while I live." 
 
 Here he was startled out of his reverie by the voice of his 
 father. " Why, how now, boy ; art thou waking, Arthur, or 
 sleeping on thy feet' from the fatigue of last night's service .? " 
 
 " Not so, my father," ans\yered Arthur, at once recollecting 
 himself. " Somewhat drowsy, perhaps ; but the fresh morning 
 , air will soon put that to flight." 
 
 Walking \yith precaution through the group of sleepers who 
 lay around, the elder Philipson, when they ha(d gained the door 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 139 
 
 of the apartment, turned back, apd, looking on tlie straw couch 
 which the large form of the Landamman, and the silvery beard 
 of his constant companion, touched by the earliest beams of 
 light, distinguished as that of Arnold Biederman, he muttered 
 between his lips an involuntary adieu. 
 
 " Farewell, mirror of ancient faith and integrity — farewell, 
 noble Arnold — farewell, soul of truth and candor — ^to whom 
 cowardice, selfishness, and falsehood, are alike unknown 1 " 
 
 And farewell, thought his son, to the loveliest, and most 
 candid, yet most mysterious of maidens! — But the adieu, as 
 may well be believed, was not, like that of his father, expressed 
 in words. 
 
 They were soon after on the outside of the gate. The Swiss 
 domestic was liberally recompensed, and charged witli a thoii- 
 sand kind words of farewell and of remembrance to the Landam- 
 man from his English guests, mingled with hopes and wishes 
 that they might soon rii^et again in the Burgundian territory. 
 The young man then took the bridle of the mule, and led the 
 animal forward on their journey at an easy pace, his father 
 walking by his side. 
 
 After a silence of some minutes, the elder Philipson addressed 
 Arthur. " I fear me," he said, " we shall see the worthy Lan- 
 damman no more. The youths who attend him are befit upon 
 taking offence — the Duke of Burgundy will not fail, I fear, to 
 give them ample occasion — and the peace which the excellent 
 man desires for the land df his fathers will be shipwrecked ere 
 they reached the Duke's presence ; though even were it other- 
 wise, how the proudest prince in Europe will brook the moody 
 looks of burgesses and peasants (so will Charles of Burgundy 
 term the friends we have parted from), is, a question too easily 
 answered. A war, fatal to the interests df all concerned, save 
 Louis of France, will certainly take place ; and dreadful must 
 be the contest if the ranks df the Burgundian chivalry shall en- 
 counter those iron sons, of the mountains, before whom so many 
 of the Austrian nobility have been repeatedly prostrated." 
 
 " I am so much convinced of the truth of what you say, my 
 father," replied Arthur, " that I judge even this day will not 
 pass over without a breach of truce. I have already put on 
 my shirt of mail, in case we should meet bad company betwixt 
 Graffs-lust and Breisach ; and I would to Heaven that you 
 would observe the same precaution. It will not delay our 
 journey ; and I confess to ydu, that I, at least, will travel with 
 much greater consciousness of safety should you do So." 
 
 " I understand you, my^ son," replied the elder Philipsoa 
 "But I am" a peaceful traveler in the Duke of Burgundy's 
 
14° 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 territories, and must not willingly suppose, that while unde;r 
 the shadow of his banner, I must guard myself against banditti, 
 as if I, were in the wilds of Palestine. As for the authority of 
 his officers, and the extent of their exactions, I need not tell you 
 that they are, in our circumstances, things to be submitted to 
 without grief or grudging." 
 
 Leaving the two travelers to journey toward Breisach at 
 their leisure, I must transport my readers to the eastern gate 
 of that small town, which, situated on an eminence, had a com- 
 manding prospect on every, side, but especially toward B3.1e. 
 ..It did not properly malce a part of the dominidris of the Duke 
 of Burgundy, but had been placed in his hands in pawn or in 
 pledge, for the repayment of the considerable sum of money, due 
 to Charles by the Emperor Sigismiind of Austria, to whorij the 
 signioi'y of the place belongei.d in property. But the town lay 
 so conveniently for distre'ssiag the commerce of the Swiss, and 
 inflicting on that people, whom he at oiice hated and despised, 
 similar marks of his malevolence, as tp encourage a general 
 opinion that the Duke of Burgundy, the implacable and un- 
 reasonable enemy of these mountaineers, would never listen to 
 any terms of redemption, however equitable or advantageous, 
 which might have the effect of restoring to the Emperor an 
 advanced post, of such consequence to the gratification of his 
 dislike, as Breisach. 
 
 The situation of the little town was in itself strong, but' th6 
 fortifications which surrounded it wece barely sufficien,t to repel 
 any sudden attack, and riot adequate to resist for any length 
 of time a formal siege. The morning beams had shone on the 
 spire of the church for more thbn an hour, when a tall, thin, 
 elderly man, wrapped in a morning gown, over which was btlckled 
 a brpad belt, supporting on the left side a sword, on the right a 
 dagger, approached the barbican of the eastern gate. His 
 bonnet displayed a feather,"which, or the tall of a fox in lieu of 
 it, was the emblem of gentle blood throughout all Germany, and 
 a )3adge highly prized by those who had a right to wear it. 
 
 ^The smEvll party of soldiers who had kept watch there during 
 the course of the preceding night, and siipplied sentinels toth 
 forward and outlook, took arms on the appearance of this 
 individual, and drew themselves up in the form of a guard, 
 which receives with military reverence an of^ce of importance. 
 Archibald de Hagenbach's countenance, for it was the Governor 
 hiriiself, expressed that settled peevishness and ill temper which 
 characterize the morning hours of a valetudinary debauchee. 
 His head throbbed, his pulse was feverish, and his cheek was 
 pale,-— symptoms' of his having spent the last- night, asVas liis 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 14X 
 
 u^ual custom, amid wine-stQups and flagons. Judging from the 
 haste with which his soldiers fell into their ranks, arid the awe 
 and silence which reigned among them, it appeared that they 
 ^yere accustonied to expect and dread his ill humor on such 
 occasions. He glanced a!t them, accordingly, an inquisitive 
 and dissatisfied look, as if he sought something on which to vent 
 his peevishness, and then asked for the " loitering dog Kilian." 
 
 Kilian presently made hi? appearance, a stout hard-favored 
 man-at-arms, a Bavarian by birth, and by rank the personal 
 squire of the Governor. 
 
 " .What news- o^f the Swiss churls, Kilian ? " demanded Archi- 
 ,bald de Hagenbach. " They should, by their thrifty habits, 
 have been on the road two hours sinc/e. Have the peasant- 
 clods presumed to ape the manners of gentlemen, and stuck by 
 the flask till cock-crow? " 
 
 " By my faith, it may well be," answered Kilian ; " thfe 
 burghers of Bile gave them full means of carousel." 
 
 "How, Kilian? — They dared not offer hospitality to the 
 Swiss drove of bullock, after the charge we sent them to the 
 contrary ? " 
 
 ■ " Nay, the Balese received them not info the town," replied 
 the squire ; " but I learned, by sure espial, that they afforded 
 them means of quartering at Graffs-lust, which was furnished 
 with many a fair gammon and pasty, to speak nought of flasks 
 .of , Rhine wine, barrels of beer, and stoups of strong waters." 
 
 " The Balese shall, answer this, Kilian," said the Governor ; 
 " do they think I am for ever to be thrusting myself between 
 the Duke and his pleasure' on their behalf ?— The fat_ porkers 
 have pre§umed too much since \ye accepted some trifling gifts 
 at their hands, more' for grading of them than for any Advan- 
 tage we could make of their paltry donations. _ Was it not the 
 wine from Bale which we were obliged to drink out in pint 
 goblets, lest it should become sour before morning ? " 
 
 " It was drunk out, and in pint goblets too," said Kilian; 
 " so much I can well remember." 
 
 " Why, go to, then," said' the Governor; " they shall know, 
 
 .,these beasts of Bale, that I hold myself no way obliged by such 
 
 donations as, these, and that my remembr3,nce of the wines 
 
 which I carouse, rests no longer than the headache, which the 
 
 mixtures they drug me with never fail of late years to leave 
 
 , behind, fort/ie next morning's pastitjie." 
 
 " Your excellency," replied the Squire, " will make it, then, 
 a quarrel between the Duke of Burgundy and, the city of Bale; 
 that they gaye this 'indirect degree of popifort and as?istai|c||:0 
 the §wis§ deputation ? V 
 
142 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " Ay, marry will I," said De Hagenbach, " unless there be 
 wise men among them, who shall show me good reasons for pro- 
 tecting them. — Qh, the BSlese do not know our noble Duke, 
 nor the gift he hast for iphastising the gutter-blodded citizens of 
 a free town. Thou canst tell them, Kilian, as well as any man, 
 how. he dealt with the villains of Liege, when they would needs 
 be pragmatical." 
 
 " I will apprise them of the matter," said Kilian, " when 
 opportunity' shall serve, and I trust I shall find them in a tem- 
 per disposed to cultivate your honorable friendship." 
 
 " Nay, if it is the same to them, it is quite indifferent to me, 
 Kilian," continued the Governor- " but, methinks, whole and 
 
 . sound fhroats are worth some purchase, were it only to swallow 
 black-puddings and schwarz-beer, to say nothing of Westphalian 
 hams and Nierensteiner — I say, a slashed throat is a useless 
 thing, Kilian." 
 
 " I will make the fat citizens to understand their danger, and 
 the necessity of making interest," answered Kilian. "* Sure, I 
 am not now to learn how to turn the ball into your excellency's 
 lap." 
 
 " You speak well," said Sir Archibald; " but how chanced 
 it thou hast so little to say to the Switzers' leaguer ? I should 
 have thought an old trooper like thee would have made their 
 pipions flutter amidst the good cheer thou tellest me of." 
 
 " I might as well have annoyed aii' angry hedgehog with my 
 bare finger, said Kilian. " I surveyed Graffs-lust myself ; — 
 
 ■ there were Sentinels on the castle walls, a sentinel on the bridge, 
 
 . besides a regular patrol of these Swiss fellow^ who kept strict 
 watch. So that there was nothing to be done ; otherwise, 
 knowing Vour excellency's ancienrquarrel, t would have had a 
 
 . hit at them, when they should never have khown who hurt 
 them. — I will tell you, however, fairly, that these churls are 
 acquiring better knowledge in the art of war than the best 
 Ritter knight." 
 
 " Well, they will be the better worth the looking after when 
 they arrive," said De Hagenbach ;" they come forth in state 
 doubtless, with all their finery, their wives' chains of silver, their 
 own medal, and rings of lead and copper. — Ah, the base hind^ ! 
 they are unworthy that a man of noble blood should ease them 
 of their trash ! " 
 
 " There is better ware arabng them, if my intelligence hafh 
 
 not deceived me," replied Kilian ; " there are merchants " ■ 
 
 " Pshaw ! the pack horses of Berne and Soleure," said the 
 
 ' Gbvernor, " With" their paltry lumber ! — cloth too -coarse to make 
 covers far harses of any breeding, and linen that is more like 
 
ANNE 6F GEIERSTEIN. 143 
 
 hair-cloth than any composition of flax. I will strip them, how- 
 ever, were it but to Vex the knaves. What ! not co'ntent with 
 claiming to be treated like an independent people, and sending 
 forth deputies and embassies forsooth, they expect,! warrant, to 
 make the indemnities of ambassadors cover the introduction of a 
 cargo of rheir contraband commodities, and thus insult the noble 
 Duke of Burgundy, and cheat him at the same time ? But De 
 Hageribach is neither knight nor gentleman if he allow them to 
 pass unchallenged'." 
 
 "And they are- better worth being stbpped," said Kilian, 
 " than your excellency supposes ; for they have English mer- 
 chants, along with them, and iinder their protection." 
 
 " English merchants ! " exclaimed De Hagenbach, his eyes 
 sparkling with joy ; " English merchants, Kihan ! Men talk of 
 Cathay and Ind, where there are mines of silver, and gold, and 
 diamonds ; but, on the faith of a , gentleman, I believe these 
 brutish Islanders have the caves of treasure wholly within their 
 own foggy land ! And then the variety of their rich merchan- 
 dise, — Ha, Kilian ! is it a long train of mules — a jolly tinkling 
 team ?— By Our Lady's glove ! the sound of it is already jingling 
 in my ears more musica!lly than aU the harps of all the minne- 
 singers at Heilbrunn ! " 
 
 " Nay, my lord, there is no great train," replied the squire ; 
 — -" only two men, as I am given to understand, with scarce so 
 Riuch baggage as loads a mule ; but, it is said, of infinite value, 
 silk and samite, lace and furs, pearls and jewelry-work— per- 
 fumes from the East, and gold-work from Venice." 
 
 " Raptures and paradise ! say not a word more," exclaimed 
 the rapacious knight of Hagenbach; " they are all our own, 
 Kilian ! Why, these. are the yery men I have dreamed of twice 
 a week for this month past — ay, two men of middle stature, or 
 somewhat under it — with smooth, round, fair, comely visages, 
 having stomachs as plumji as partridges, and purses as plump 
 as tb^eir stomachs — Ha, what' say'st thou to my dream, Kilian ? " 
 
 " Only, that, to be quite soothfast," answered the squire, " it 
 should have included the presence of a score, or thereabouts, of 
 sturdy young giants as ever climbed cliff, or carried bolt to 
 whistle at a chapiois— a lusty plump of clubs, bills, and par- 
 tisans, such as make shields crack like oaten cakes and helmets 
 ring like church-bells." 
 
 "The better, kna!ve, the better 1 " exclaimed the Governor, 
 rubbing his hands. " English p'edlers to plunder ! Swiss bullies 
 to beat into submission! I wot well, we can have nothing of 
 the Helvetian swine save their beastly bristles — it is lucky thej 
 brino- these two island sheep along with them. But- we must 
 
144 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 get, ready pur boar-spears, and clear the clipping-pens for exer- 
 cise of our craft. — Here, Lieutenant Schonfeldt ! " 
 
 An officer stepped forth. , 
 
 " How many men are here on duty ? " 
 
 " About sixty," replied the officer. " Twenty out on parties 
 in difEerent directions, and there may be forty or fifty in their 
 quarters." 
 
 "Order them all under arms instantly; — hark ye, not by 
 trumpet or bugle, but by warning them individually in their 
 quarters, to draw to arms as quietly ais possible, and rendezvous 
 .here at the.; eastern gate. Tell the villains there is booty to 
 be gained, and they shall have Iheir share." ^ 
 
 " On these terms," said Schonfeldt, " they will walk, over a 
 spider's web without startling the insect that wove if. I will 
 ■collect them without loss of aii instant." 
 
 " i tell thee, Kilian," co.ntinued the exulting commandant, 
 again speaking apart with his confidential attendant, " nothing 
 could come so luckily as the chance of this onslaught. Duke 
 Charles desijres to affront the Swiss, — not, look you, that he 
 cares to act toward them by his own direct orders, in such 
 a manner as might be termed a breach of public faith toward 
 a peaceful embassy; but the gallant follower who shall save 
 his prince the scandal of such an affair, and whose actions may 
 be termed a mistake or misapprehension, shall, I warrant you, 
 be accounted to have done, knightly service. Perchance afrown 
 may be passed upon him in public, but in private the Duke will 
 know how to esteem him. — Why standest thou so silent, man, 
 and what ails thy ugly ilHookitig aspect ? Thou art not afraid 
 of twenty Switzer boys, and we at the head of such a band of 
 spears ? " 
 
 "The Swiss," answered Kilian, "will give and take good 
 blows; yet I have no fear of them. But I like not that we 
 should trust too much to Duke Charles, That he would be, in 
 the first instance, pleased with any dishonor done the Swiss is 
 likely enough ; but if, as your excellency hints, he finds it 
 . afterward convenient to disown the action, he is a prince likely 
 to give a lively color; to his disavowal by hanging up (he actors." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said the commandant, " I know where I stand. 
 Such a trick were like einough to be played by Louis of France, 
 but it is foreign' to the blunt character of our iBold one of 
 Burgundy. — Why the devil stand'^t thou still, man, simpering 
 like an ape at a roasted chestnut, which he thinks too warm for 
 his fingers ? " ■ 
 
 " Your excellency is wise as well a? warlike," said the esquire,, 
 " and it is^not for me to contest your pleasure. But this pea'cc- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 145 
 
 ful embassy — these English merchants— if Charles goes to war 
 with Louis, as the rumor is current, what he should most of 
 all desire is the neutrality of Switzerland, and the assistance of 
 England, whose King is crossing the sea with a great armv. 
 Now you, Sir Archibald of Hagenbsch, may well do that in the 
 course of this very morning, which will put the Confederated 
 Cantons in arms against Charles, and turn the English from 
 allies into enemies." 
 
 " I care not," said tile commandant ; " I know the Duke's 
 humor well, and if he, the master of so many provinces, is 
 willing to risk them in a self-willed frolic, what is it to Archi- 
 bald de Hagenbach, who has nst a foot of land to lose in the 
 cause?" 
 
 " :But you have life, my lord," said the esquire. 
 
 "Ay, life !" replied the knight; "a paltry right to exist, 
 which I have been ready to stake every day of my life for 
 dollars— ay, and for creutzers — and think ybu I will hesitate 
 to pledge it for broad-pieces, jewels of the East, and Goldsmath% 
 work of Venice ? No, Kilian ; these English must be eased of 
 their bales, that Archibald de Hagenbach'may drink a purer 
 flask than their thin moselle, aind wear a brocade doublet in- 
 stead of greasy velvet. Nor is it less necessary that Kilian 
 should have a seemly new jerkin, with a purse of ducats to 
 - jingle at his girdle." 
 
 " By my faith," said Kilian, " that last argument hath dis- 
 armed my scruples, and I give up the point, since it ill- befits 
 me to dispute with your excellency." 
 
 ;, " To the work then," said his leader. " But stay — we must 
 first take the Church along with us. The priest of Saint Paiil's 
 hath been moody of late, and spread abroad strange things 
 from the pulpit, as if we were little better thah common 
 villagers and robbers. Nay, he hath had the insolence to warn 
 me, as he .termed it, twice, in strange form. It were well to 
 break the growling mastiff's bald head ; but since that might 
 'be ill taken by the Duke, the heXt point of wisdom is to fling 
 him a bone." ' 
 
 " He may be a dangerous enemy," said the squire dubiously; 
 " his power is great with the people." 
 
 ' " Tush ! " replied Hagenbach, " I know how to disarm' the 
 shaveling. Send to him, and tell him to come hither to speak 
 with iiie. Meanwhile, have all our force under arms; let the 
 barbican and barrier be well manned with archers ; station 
 spearmen in the houses on ealch hand of the gateway-; and let, 
 'the street be barricaded with carts, -well bound- ^together, but 
 placed as if they had been there by accident — place a body of 
 
14.6 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 determined fellows in these carts, and behind them. So soon 
 as the merchants and their mules enter (for that is the main 
 point), up with your drawbridge, down with the portcullis, 
 send a volley of arrows among those who are without;, if they 
 make any scuffle; disarm and secure those who have entered, 
 and are cooped up between the barricade before, and the 
 ambush behind, and around them — And then, Kiliaii "— 
 
 " And then," said his esquire, " shall we, like merry Free 
 Companions, be knuckle-deep in the English budgets" 
 
 " An<J, like joyial hunters," replied the knight, "elbow-deep 
 in Swiss blood." 
 
 "The game will stand at, bay though," answered Kilian. 
 " They are led by that Donnerhuge'l whom we have heard of, 
 whom they call the Young Bear of Berne. They will turn to 
 their defence." 
 
 "The better, man — wouldstthou kill sheep rather than hunt 
 wolves .? Besides, our toils are set, aiid the whole garrison shall 
 assist. Shame on thee,' Kilian, thou wert not wont to have so 
 many scruples !. " 
 
 " Nor have I now," said Kilian. " But these Swiss bills, and 
 two-handed swords of the breadth, of four inches, are no child's 
 play. — And then, if you call all our garrison to the attack, to 
 whom will your excellency intrust the defence of the othei- 
 gates, and the circuit of the walls ? " 
 
 "Lock, bolt, ajid chain up the gates," replied the GoveniOr, 
 " and bring the keys hither. There shall no one leave the 
 place till this affair is over. Let some score of the citizens take 
 arms for the duty of guarding the walls ; and look they dis- 
 charge it well, or I will lay a fine on them which they shall 
 discharge to purpose." 
 
 " They will grumble," said Kilian, " They say, that not 
 being the Duke's subjects, though the place is impledged to 
 his Grace, they are pot liable to military service." 
 
 " They lie ! the cowardly slaves," answered De Hagenbach. 
 " If I,ha\{e not employed them much, hitherto, it is because I 
 scorn their assistance ; nor would I now use their help, were it 
 for anything save to keep a watch, by looking out straight 
 before them. Let them obey, as they respect their property, 
 persons, and families." 
 
 A deep voice behind them repeated the emphatic language 
 of Scripture, — " I have seen theVicked man flourish in his 
 power even like unto a laurel, but I returned and he was not — 
 : yea, I sought him, but hp was not to be found." 
 
 Sir Archijjald de Hagenbach turned sternly, and encouft- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 147 
 
 •tered the dark and ominous looks of the Priest of ^aipt Paul's, 
 dressed in the vestments of his order. ,,,1 
 
 " We are busy, father," said the Governor, " and will hear 
 your preachment another time." , , 
 
 " I come by your summons. Sir Governor," said the priest, 
 "or I had not intruded myself, where I well knew my preach- 
 ments, if you term them so, will do no good." 
 
 " Oil, I crave your mercy, reverend father," said De Hagen- 
 bach. " Yes, it is true that I did send for you, to desjre your 
 .prayers and kind intercession with Our Lady aij^' Saint Paul, 
 in some transactions which are likely to occur this morning, and 
 in which, as the Lombard says, I do espy roba di guadagno." 
 
 " Sir Archibald,"' answered the priest calmly, " I well hope 
 and trust that you do not forget the nature of the glorified 
 Saints so far as to ask , them for their blessing upon such ex- 
 ploits as you have been too oft engaged in since your arrival 
 amongst us — an event wrhich of itself gave token of the Divine 
 anger. Nay, let me say, humble as I am, that decency to a 
 servant of the altar should check you from proposing to me to 
 put up prayers for the success of pillage and robbery." 
 
 "I understand you, father," said the rapacious Governor, 
 " and you shall see I do. While; you are the Duke's subject, 
 you must by your office put up your prayers for his success in 
 matters that are fairly managed.— You acknowledge this with 
 a graceful bend of your reverend head ?--Well, then, I will be 
 as reasonable as you are. Say we desire the intercession of the 
 .'good Saints, and of you, their pious orator, in something a little 
 out of the ordinary path, and, if you will, somewhat of a doubt- 
 ful complexion, — are we entitled to ask you or them for their 
 I, pains and trouble without a just consideration? Surely no. 
 Therefore I vow and solemnly promise, that if I have good 
 fortune in this morning's adventure. Saint Paul shall have an 
 altar-cloth and a basin of silver, large or little, as my booty will 
 permit — Our Ladya web of satin for a full suit, with a neckliace 
 of pearl for holidays — and thou, priest, some twenty pieces of 
 broad English gold, for, acting as go-between betwixt ourselves 
 and the blessed Apostles, whom we acknowledge ourselves ,un- 
 worthy to negotiate with in our profane person. And now, Sir 
 „ Priest, do we understand each other, for I have little time to 
 lose ? I know you have hard thoughts of me, but you see the 
 devil is not quite so horrible as he is painted.",, 
 
 "Do we understand each other?" answered the Black 
 PriesI of Saint Paul's, repeating the Governor's question — 
 "Alas, no ! and I fear me we never shall. Hast thou never 
 heard the words spoken by the holy hermit, Berchtold o£ 
 
148 ANNE OF GETERSTEim 
 
 Offringen, to the implacable Queen Agnes, Who had revenge^ 
 with such dreadful severity th6 assassination of her father^ the 
 Emperor Albert ? " , ■ • 
 
 " Not I," returned the knight ; " I have neither studied the 
 chronicles of emperors, nor the legends of hermits; and, there- 
 fore, Sir Priest, an you like not my proposal, let us have no 
 further words o.n the matter. I am unwont to press my favors, 
 or to deal with priests who requiref entrfeaty, when gifts areheld 
 out to them.-'' , '" 
 
 "Hear yet the words of the holy man," said the priest. 
 "The time may come, and that shortly, when you would gladly 
 desire to hear what you scornfully reject." ,: 
 
 " Speak on, but be brief," said Archibald de Hagenbach ; 
 " and know, though thou may'st terrify or cajole the multitude, 
 thou now speakest to one Whose rfesolution is fixed far beyond 
 the power of thy eloquence to melt." 
 
 " Know, then," said the Priest of Saint Paul's, " that Agiaies, 
 daughter of the murdered Albert, after shedding oceans of blood 
 in avenging his bloody death, founded at length the rich abbey 
 of Konigsfeldt ; and, that it might have a superior claim to 
 renowned Sanctity, made ti pilgrimage in person to the cell of 
 ■ the holy hermit, and besought of 'him to honor her abbey by 
 taking up his residence there. But what was his reply? — 
 Mark it, and tremble. ' Begone, ruthless woman ! ' said the 
 holy man ; ' God will not be served with blood-guiltiness, and 
 rejects the gifts which are obtained by violence and robbery. 
 The Almighty loves mercy, justice, and humanity, and by the 
 lovers of these only will he be worshipped.' — And now, Archi- 
 bald of Hagenbach, once, twice, thrice, hast thou had warning. 
 Live as becomes a man on whom sentence is passed, and who 
 must expect execution." 
 
 Having spoken these words with a menacing tone and frown- 
 ing aspect, the- Priest of Saint Paul's turned away from the 
 Governor, whose first impulse was to command him to be 
 arrested. But when he recollected the serious consequences 
 which attached to the laying violent hands on a priest, he 
 silffered him to depart in peace, conscious that his own unpop- 
 ularity might render any attempt to revenge himself an act of 
 great rashness. Hecalled, therefore, for a beaker of Burgundy, 
 in wliich he swallowed down his displeasure, and had just re- 
 turned to Kilian the cup, which he had drained to the bottom, 
 when the warden winded a blast from the watch-tower, which 
 betokened the arrival of strangers at the gate of the oity. 
 
ANNE OP GEIEHSTEIN. 149 
 
 CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. 
 
 ^ I will resist such entertainment, till 
 My enemy has more power. 
 
 The Tempest. ^ 
 
 " That blast was but fe,ebly blown," said De , Hagenbach; 
 ascending to the ramparts, from which he could see what passed 
 on the outside of the gate ; " who approaches, Kilian ? " 
 
 The trusty squire was hastening to meet him with the news. 
 , " Two men, with a mule, an it please your excellency ; and 
 merchants I presume them to be." 
 
 " Merchants ? 'sdeath, villain ! pedlers you mean. Heard 
 ever man of English merchants trampit^g it on foot, with no 
 more baggage than one mule can manage to carry ? They must 
 be beggarly Bohemians, or those whom the French people call 
 Escossais. The knaves ! they shall pay with the pining of their 
 paunches for the poverty of their purses." 
 
 " Do not be too hasty, an please your excellency," quoth the 
 squire ; " small budgets hold rich goods. But, rich or poor, 
 they are our men, at least they have all the marks ; the elder, 
 well-sized, and dark-visaged, may write fifty-and-five years, a 
 beard somewhat grizzled ; — the younger some two-and-twenty, 
 taller 'than the first, and a i'ell-favored lad, with a Smooth 
 chin, and light-brown mustaches." 
 
 " Let them be admitted," said the Governor, turning back 
 -jn Qrder again to descend to t|ie street, " and bring them Into 
 the folter-kampier of the toll-liouse." 
 
 So saying, he betook himself to the place appointed, which 
 was an apartment in the large tower that protected the eastei^n 
 gateway, in which were deposited the rack, with various other 
 instruments of torture, which the cruel and rapaciblis Governor 
 was in .the habit of applying to such prisoners from whom he 
 .was desirous of extorting either booty or information. He 
 entered the apartment, which was dimly lighted, and had a 
 lofty Gothic roof which could be but iinperfectly seen, while 
 nooses and cords hanging down from thence, announced a 
 fearful connection with various iniplements of rusted iron tl^at 
 hung round the walls, or lay scattere4 on the floor. 
 
 A faint stream of light, through one of the numerous and 
 narrow slits, or shot-holes, with which the walls were garnished. 
 
Ijo ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 fell directly upon the person and visage of a tall swarthy inan, 
 seated in what, but for the partial illumination, would have 
 been an obscure corner of this evil-boding apartment. His 
 features were regular, and even handsorne, but of a character 
 peculiarly stern and sinister; This person's dress was a cloak 
 of scarlet ; his head was bare, and surrounded by shaggy locks 
 of black, which time had party grizzled. ' He was busily 
 employed in furbishing and burnishing' a broad two-handed 
 sword, of a peculiar shape, and considerably shorter than the 
 weapons of that kind which we have described as used by, the 
 Swiss. He was so deeply engaged in his task, that he started 
 as the heavy door opened with a jarring noise, and the sword, 
 escaping from his hold, rolled on the stone floor with a heavy 
 clash. " . , , , ,, 
 
 " Ha ! Scharfgerichter,'' said the Knight, as he entered the 
 folter-kammer, " thou art preparing for thy duty.' ". ' '' 
 
 " It would ill become your excellency's servant," answered 
 the man, in a harsh, deep tone, " to be found idle. But the 
 prisoner is hot far off, as I can judge by the fall of my sword, 
 which infallibly announces the presence of him who shall feel 
 its edge." 
 
 " The prisoners are at hand, Francis," replied the Governor ; 
 " but thy omen has deceived thee for once. They are fellows 
 for Whom a good rope will suffice, and thy sword drinks only 
 noble blood.'" ' 
 
 "The, worse for Francis Steinernherz," replied the official in 
 scarlet ; " I trusted that your e?;cellency, who have ever been 
 a bountiful patron, should this day have made me noble." 
 
 " Noble ! " said the Qovernpf ; " thou art mad — thou noble ! 
 Tlie common executioner ! " 
 
 " And wherefore not, Sir Arphibald de Hagenbacli ? t 
 think the name of Francis Steinernherz von Blut-ackef will suit 
 nobility, being fairly and legally won, as well as another. Nay, 
 do not stare on me thus. If one of my profession shall do his 
 grim office on niiie: men' of noble birth, with the same weapbn, 
 and with a single blow to each patient, hath he not a right 
 to his freedom from taxes, and his nobility by patent ? " 
 
 " So says the law," said Sir Archibald, after reflecting for' a 
 moment, — " but rather more in scorn than seriously, I should 
 judge, since no one was ever known to claim the benefit of it." 
 
 " The prouder boast for him," said the functionary, " that 
 shall be the first' to demand the honors due to a sharp sword 
 and a clean strolce. I, Francis Steinernherz, will be the first 
 noble of my profession, when ,1 shall have, despatched ene 
 more knight of the Empire." 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 151 
 
 " Thou hast been ever 'v:\-my service, has): thpu not?" de- 
 manded De Hagenbach. ' , , 
 < ;" Under what. other master," replied the executioner, "could 
 rhave enjoyed, such constant praptice ? I have executed your 
 . decrees on condemned sinners since I could swing a spourge, 
 Hit a crow-bar, or wield this trusty weapon ; and who can say 
 I ever failed of my first blow, or needed to deaj a second ? 
 Tristrem of the Hospital, and his famous assistants. Petit 
 Andrd, and Trois Eschelles,* are novices compared with me 
 in the use of the noble and knightly sword. Marry, I should 
 be ashamed to match myself with them in the field practice 
 with;bowstring and dagger ; these are no feats worthy of a 
 Christian man who would rise, to hono^■ and nobility." 
 
 " Thou art a fellow of excellent address,, and I do not deny 
 it," replied De Hagenbach. " But it cannot be — I trust it can- 
 not be — that when noble blood is becoming scarce in the land, 
 and proud churls are lording, it qver knights and barqns, I my- 
 self should haye caused so much to be spille,d ? " 
 
 " I will number the patients to yourexcellency by name and 
 title," said Francis, drawijigout a, gcroU of parchment, and read 
 ing with a commentary as he went on, — "There was Count 
 ■■Jffilliam of Elvershoe — he was my assay-piece, a sweet youth, 
 and died most like a Christian." 
 
 " I remember — he was indeed, a most smart youth, and 
 courted my mistress," said Sir Archiba.Id. 
 
 " He died on St. Jude's, in the year of grace 1455," said 
 the executioner. 
 
 ' Go on — but name no dates," said thp Governor. 
 
 "Sir Miles of StockenbOrg" 
 
 " He drove off my cattle," observed his excellency. 
 
 " Sir Louis of Riesenfeldt" — continued, the executioner. 
 
 "He made love 10 my wife," commented the Governor. 
 
 " The Three Yung-herren of Lammerbourg — you made 
 their father, the Count, childless;in one day." , , 
 
 "And he made me landless," said Sir Archibald, " so that 
 account is settled. — Thou needest read no further," he con- 
 tinued ; " 1 admit thy record, though it is written in letters some- 
 what of the reddest. I had counted these three young gentle- 
 men as one execution." 
 
 "You did me the greater wrong,"- said Francis; "they cost 
 three good separate blpws of this;good sword," , 
 
 " Be it so, and God be with their souls," said Hagenbach. 
 " But thy ambition must go to sleep for a while, Scharfgerichter, 
 for the stuff that came hither to-day is for dungeon and cord, or 
 * [Three welUknown characters who figure in Queintin Durward] 
 
152 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 perhaps a touch of the rSck or strappado — 'there is no honor 
 to win on tliem." 
 
 " The wofse luck mine,'' said the executioner. " I had 
 dreamed so surely that your honor had made me noble !t— and 
 then the fall of my sword ? " 
 
 "Take, a bowl of wine, and forget your auguries." 
 
 " With yotir honor's permission, no," said the executioner ; 
 "to drink before noon were to endanger the nicety of my 
 band." 
 
 " Be silent, then, and mind your duty," said De Hagen- 
 bach. 
 
 Francis took up his sheathless sword, wiped the dust rev- 
 erently from it, and withdrew into a corner of the chamber; 
 wh^re he stood leaning with his hands on the pommel of the 
 fatal weapon. 
 
 Almost immediately afterward, Kilian entered at the head 
 of five or six soldiers, conducting the two Philipsons, whose 
 arms were tied down with cOrdS. 
 
 " Approach me a chair," said the Governor, and took his 
 place gravely beside a table, on which stood writing ma- 
 terials. ' 
 
 " Who are these men, Kilian, and wherefore are they 
 bound ? " 
 
 '•■ " So please your excellency," said Kilian with a deep re- 
 spect of manner which entirely differed from the tone, approach- 
 ing to familiarity, with which he communicated with his mas- 
 ter in private, ".we thought it well that these tv\o strattgers 
 should not appear armed in your gracious presence ; and when 
 we required of them to surrender their weapons at the gates, 
 as is the custom of the garrison, this young gallant must needs 
 offer resistance. I admit he gave up his weapon at his father's 
 command.'' 
 
 "It is false!" exclaimed young Philipson ; but his father 
 making a sign to him to be silent, he obeyed instantly. 
 
 " Noble sir," said the elder Philipson, " we are strangers, 
 and utiacquairited with the rules of this citadel ; we are English- 
 men, -and unaccustomed to submit to personal mishandling; we 
 trust you will have excuse for us, When we found ourselves, 
 without any explanation of the cause, rudely seized on by we 
 knew not w-hom. My son, is young and unthinking, did partly 
 draw his weapon, but desisted at my command, without having 
 altogether unsheathed his sword, far less made a blow. For 
 myself, I am a merchant, accustomed to submit to the laws and , 
 customs of the countries in which I traffic ; I am in the terri- 
 tories of the Duke of Burgundy, and I know his laws and cus- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 153 
 
 toms must be just and. equitalsle., He is. tlifi powerful and 
 faitiiful ally of England, and I fe^r nothing while under his 
 banner." 
 
 "Hem! hem 1 " replied De Hagenbach, a little disconcert- 
 ed by the Englishman's conjposure, and perhaps recollecting, 
 that, unless his passions were avi^alcened (as in the case of the 
 Swiss, whom he detested), Charles of Burgundy deserved the 
 character of a just though seyere prince — " Pair words are well, 
 but hardly make amends for foul actions. You- have drawn 
 swords in riot, and opposition to the Duke's soldiers, when 
 obeying the mandates \vhich regulate their watch." 
 
 " Surely, sir," answered Philipson, "this i? a severe con- 
 struction of almost natural action. But, in a word, if you are 
 disposed to be rigorous, the simple action of drawing, or attempt- 
 ing to jdraw, a sword in a garrison town, is only punishable by 
 a pecuniary fine, and such we must pay, if it be your will." 
 
 " Now, here is a silly sheep," said, Kilian to the executioner, 
 beside whom , he had stationed, hirpiself, somewhat apart frorn 
 the group, " who voluntarily offered his own fleece to., the clip- 
 per." ' . 
 
 "It will scarcely serve as. a ransom for his throat, Sir 
 Squire," answered Francis Steinernberz ; for, look you, I 
 dreamed last night, that our masfer made rne. noble, and I knew 
 by the fall of my sword thajt this is the man by whom I am to 
 mount to gentility. I must this very day deal on hifn with my 
 good sword," ' . 
 
 " Why, thou ambitious fool," said the ^squire, "this is no 
 .noble, but an island pedler— a mere English citizen," 
 
 ' " Thou art deceived," said the executioner, " and hast never 
 looked on men when they are about to die,'' 
 
 "Have I not?" said the squire. " Have I not looked on 
 five pitched fields, besides slcirmishes and anibyscades in- 
 numerable ? " 
 
 "That tries not the, courage," ' said the Scharfgerichter. 
 "All men will fight when pitched against each other.. So will 
 the m:Ost paltry curs — so, will the dunghill fowls. But he is 
 bi;ave ajid noble who can look on ^ scaffold and a block, 
 a priest to give him absolution, and the headsman a,nd good 
 sword which is to mow him down in his strength, as he would 
 Ipok upon things indifferent ; and such a man ^s. that whom we 
 now behold." 
 
 " Yes," answered Kilian, " but that man looks not on such 
 an apparatus — he only see;s our illustrious patron. Sir Archibald 
 de Hagenbach." 
 ' "And he who. looks, upon Sir Archibald," said the execu-( 
 
154 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 tioner, " being, as yonder man assurdly is, a person of sense 
 and apprehension, looks he not upfoia' sword and headsifiiari ? 
 Assuredly that prisoner apprehends .as much, and being so 
 composed as he is under such conviction, it shows him to be a 
 nobleman by blood, or rriay I ftiySelf never win nobility ! " 
 
 " Our master will come to compromise with him, I judge," 
 replied Kilian ; " he looks smiHngly on him." 
 
 " Never trust to me then," said the man in scarlet ; " there! 
 is a glance in Sir Archibald's eye which betokens blood, as 
 sureh'aS the dog-star bddes pestilence." 
 
 While these dependants of Sir Archibald de Hagenbach were 
 thus conversing apart, their master had engaged the prisoners 
 in a long train of captious interrogatones concSmitig their 
 business in Switzerland, their connection with the Landamman; 
 and the cause of their traveling into Burgundy, to all which 
 the senior Philipsoii gave ;direct and plain 'answers, excepting 
 to the last. He was going, he said, into Burgundy, for the 
 ■purpose of his traffic, — his wares were' at the disposal of the 
 Governor, "who might detain all, or any'part of them, as he 
 might be disposed to make himself answerable to his master. 
 But his business with the Duke was of a private nature,, respect- 
 ing some particular matters of commerce, in which others as 
 well as he himself were interested. To the Duke alone, he 
 declared, would he communicate the affair ; and he pressed it 
 strongly on the Governor, that if he should sustain any damage 
 in his own person or that of his son, the Duke's severe displeas- 
 ure would be the inevitable consequence." 
 
 De Hagenbach was evidently much embarrassed by thfe 
 steady tone of his prisoner, and more than pnce held counse,! 
 with the bottle, his never-failing oracle in cases of extreme 
 difficulty. Philtpson had readily surrendered to the Governor 
 a list or invoice of his merchandise, which was of so inviting a 
 character, that Sir Archibald absolutely gloated ever it. After 
 remaining in deep meditation- for some tinie, he raised his head, 
 and spoke thus : — ' ,■: 
 
 "Youmustbe well aware. Sir Merchant, that it is the Duke's 
 pleasure that no Swiss rherchandise shall pass through his' ter- 
 ritories ; and that, nevertheless, you have been, by your own 
 account^ some time in that country, and having also accom- 
 panied a body of inen calling themselves Swiss Deputies, I am 
 authorized to believe that .these valuable articles are rather the 
 property of those persons, than of a single individual of so poor 
 an appearance as yourself, and that should I demand pecuniary 
 satisfaction, three hundred pieces of gold would not be ah 
 'extravagant fine for so bold a practice ; and 'you might Wander 
 
ANNE OF GEIEIi'STEIN. 155 
 
 Where you will with the rest of your wares, so you bring them 
 not into Burgundy." 
 
 " But it is to Burgundy, and to the Duke's presence, that I 
 am expressly bound," said the Englishman. " If I go not 
 thither my journey is wrecked '; and the Duke's displeasure 
 is certain to light on those who may molest me. For I make 
 your excellency aware, tha!t your gracious Prince already knows 
 of my journey, and will make strict inquiry where- and by whom 
 I hs^ve been intercepted." 
 
 Again the Governor was silent, endeavoring to decide how 
 he might best reconcile the gratification of his rapacity with 
 precaution for his safety. After a -few minutes' consideration 
 he again addressed his prisoner. 
 
 '- " Thou art very positive in thy tale, my good friend ; but 
 my orders are equally so to exclude merchandise coming from 
 Switzerland. What if I put thy mule aiid baggage' unde.t- 
 arrest ? " 
 
 " I cannot withstand your power, my lord, to do what you 
 will. I will in that case go to the Duke's footstool, and do my 
 errand there." 
 
 ' " Ay, and my errand also," answered the Governor. " That 
 is, thou wilt carry thy complaint to the Duke against the Gov- 
 ernor of La Ferette, for executing his orders too strictly ? " 
 
 " On my life a!nd honest word," answered the Englishman, 
 " I will make no complaint. Leave me but m)'' ready money, 
 without which I can hardly travel to the Duke's coUrt, and I 
 will look no more after these goods and wares than the stag 
 looks after the antlers which he shed last year." 
 
 Again the Governor of La Ferette looked doubtful, and 
 shook his head. , 
 
 " Men in such a case as yourg," he said, "cannot be trusted ; 
 nor, to say truth, is it reasonable to expect they should be 
 trustworthy. — These same wares, designed for the duke's 
 private hand, in what do they consist ? " 
 
 '' They are under seal," replied the Englishman. 
 
 " They are of rare value, doubtless ? '.'continued the Governor. 
 
 " I cannot tell,'' answered the elder Philipson ; " I know tlie 
 Duke sets great store by them. But your excellency knows, 
 that great princes sometimes place a high value on trifles." 
 
 ■''Bear you them about you ? " said the Governor. " Take 
 heed how you answer — Look around you on these en'giiies; which 
 can bring a dumb man to speak, and consider I have the power 
 to employ them ! " ' ' ' 
 
 " And I the courage to support their worst infliction," an- 
 
156 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 swered Philipson, with, the same impenetrable coolness which 
 he had maintained throughout the whole conference. 
 
 " Remember, also," said Hagenbach, ''that I can have your 
 person searched as thoroughly as your mails and budgets," 
 
 " I do remember that I am wholly in thy power ; and, that 
 I may leave thee no excuse for employing force on a peaceful 
 traveler, I will own to you," said Philipson, " that I have the 
 Puke's packet in. the bosom of my doublet." 
 
 " Bring it forth," answered the Governor. 
 
 " My h^nds.are tied, both, in honor and literally," said the 
 Englishman, 
 
 " Pluck it from his bosom, Kilian," said Sir Archibald ; " let 
 us see this gear he talks of." ,. , 
 
 " Could resistance avail,". replied the stout, mercliant, " you 
 should pluck forth my heart first. But I pray all who are 
 present to observe, that, the seals are every one whole and 
 unbroken at this moment when it is forcibly taken from my 
 person/' 
 
 As he spoke thus he looked around on the soldiers, whose 
 presence De Hagenbach had perhaps forgotten. 
 
 " How, dog !,"(Said Sir Archibald, giving w.ay to his passions, 
 " vyould you stir up mutiny among my men-at-arms ? — Kiliajp, 
 let the soldiers wait without." . , 
 
 So saying he hastily placed, under cover of his own robe the 
 small but remarkably well-secured packet, which Kilian had 
 taken from the merchant's person. The soldiers withdrew, 
 lingering, hqwever, and looking back, like children brought 
 away from a show before its final conclusion. 
 
 " So, fcUpw ! " again began De Hagenbach, "we are now 
 more private. Wilt thou deal more on the level whh me, and 
 tell me what this packet is, and whence it comes ? " 
 
 " Could all your garrison be crowded into this room, I can 
 only answ«er as before. — The contents I do not precisely know 
 — the person by whom it was sent I am determined not to 
 name." 
 
 "Perhaps your son," said the Govejnor, " may be more 
 compliant." 
 
 " He cannot tell you that of which hp is himself ignorant," 
 answered tl>e mercfiant. 
 
 " Perchance the rack may make you both find your tongues ; 
 — and we will try it on the yoi^ng fellow first, Kilian, since 
 thou knowest we have seen men shrink; from beholdirig the 
 wrenched joints of their children, that would have committed 
 their old sinews to the stretching wjtjh much endurance." 
 
AUNlE OF GIEIERSTEIN. jey 
 
 _ " You may inake the trial," said Arthur, . " and Heaven will 
 
 give me strength to endure " 
 
 " And me courage to behold," added his father. 
 All this while the Governor was turning and returning the' 
 little packet in his hand, curiously inspecting e-t^ery fold, and' 
 regrettmg, doubtless, in secret, that a few patches of wax, 
 placed under an envelope of crirpson satiri, and ligatures of 
 twisted silk cord, should prevent his eager eyes from ascer- 
 taining the nature of the treasure which he doubted not it 
 concealed. At length he again called in the soldiers, and 
 delivered up the two prisoners to iheir charge, commahding 
 that they should be kept safel)', arid in separate holds, and 
 that the father, in particular, should be most carefully looked, 
 after. 
 
 " I take you a,ll here to wiitness," exclaimed thfe elder ttiilip- 
 son, despising the menacing signs of De Hagenbach, " that 
 the Governor detains from me a packet, addressed to his most 
 gracious lord and roaster, the Duke ot Burgundy." 
 
 De Hagenbach actually foamed at thd mouth with passion. 
 "And should I noi detain it ? " he exclaimed, in a voice 
 inarticulate with rage. " May there not be some foul practice 
 against the life of bur, most gracious sovereign, by poison c3r 
 otherwise, in this suspicious packet, brought by a most sus- 
 picious .Ije^rt^r ? Have \ye never heard of poisons which do 
 their work by the sme,ll ? And shall we, who \eep the gate, 
 as I may say, of his Grace of Burgundy's dominibns, give access 
 to what may rob Europe of its pride of chivalry, Burgundy of 
 its prince, and Flanders of her father .' — No'! AWay With 
 these miscreants, soldiers — dowri to the lowest dungeon's with 
 them— keep them separate, and watch them carefully., This 
 treasonable practice has been meditated with the connivance of 
 Berne and Soleure." 
 
 Thus Sir Archibald de Hagenbach raved, with a raised voice 
 and inflamed ' countenance, lashing himself as it were into 
 passion, until the steps of the soldiers, aiid the clash of their 
 arms, as they retired with the prisoners, were no longer audible. 
 His complexion, when these had ceased, waxed paler than was 
 natural to him — his brow was furrowed with anxious wrinkles — - 
 and his voice beckrne lower and more hesitating than ordinary, 
 as, turning to his esquire, he said, " K.ilian, we stand upon a 
 slippery plank, with a raging torrent beneath us — What is to 
 be done?" • ■ , 
 
 " Marry, to move forward with a resolved yet prudent step," 
 answered the crafty Kilian. " It is unlucky that all these 
 fellows should have seen the packet, and heard the apjjeal of 
 
158 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN, . 
 
 yonder iron-nerved trade;-. But this ill luck has befallen us, 
 and the packet having been in your excellency's hands, you will 
 have all the credit of having broken the seals ; for, though you 
 leave them as entire as, the moment they were impressed, it will 
 only be supposed they have been ingeniously replaced. Let us 
 see what are the contents, before we determine what is to be done 
 with them.. They must be of rare value, since the churl mer- 
 chant was well contented to leave behind all his rich mule's-load 
 of merchandise, so that this precious packet might pass un- 
 examined:" 
 
 "They maybe papers on some political matter. Many such,' 
 and of high importance, pass secretly between, Edward of Eng- 
 land and our bold Duke." , Such was the reply of De Hagen- 
 bach. 
 
 " If they be papers of consequence to the Duke," answered 
 Kilian, " we can forward them to Dijon. — Or they may be such 
 as Louis of France, would purchase with their weight of gold." 
 
 " For shame, K-ilian," said the Knight ; " wouldst thou-have 
 me betray my master's secrets to the King of France ? Sboner 
 would I lay rny head on the block." 
 
 "Indeed? And yet your excellency hesitates hot to " 
 
 Here the squire stooped, apparently for fear ^of giving offence, 
 by affixing a name too broad and intelligible to, the practice of 
 his patron. 
 
 " To plunder the Duke, thou wouldst say, thou impudent 
 slave! And, saying so, thou wouldst be as dull as thou wert 
 wont to be," answered De Hagenbach. " I partake, indeed, in 
 the plunder which the Duke takes from aliens ; and reason good. 
 Even so the hound and the hawk have their share of the quarry 
 they bring down — ay, and the lion's share, too, unless the hunts'- 
 man or falconej be all the nearer to them, Such are the 
 perquisites of my rank ; and the Duke, who placed me here for 
 the gratification of his resentrnent and the bettering of my for- 
 tune, does not grudge them to a faithful servant. And, indeed, 
 I may term myself, in so far as this territory of La Ferette ex- 
 tends, the Duke's full representative, or, as' it may be termed, 
 Alter Ego— and, thereupon, I will open this packet, which, 
 being addressed to him, is thereby equally addressed to me." 
 
 Having thus in a manner talked hirtiself up to an' idea of his 
 own high authority, he cut the strings of the packet which he 
 had all this while held in his hand, and, undoing the outet cover- 
 ings, J3roduced a very small case made of sandal-wood. 
 
 " The^contentsi" he said, " had need to be valuable, as they 
 lie in so little compass." 
 
 So saying, he pressed the, spring, and the casket opening, 
 
AA'AWi OF GEIERSTEIN. 359 
 
 displayed a necklace of , diamonds, distinguisliedby brilliancy and! 
 size, and apparently of extraordinary value, "^'jie eyes of the 
 avaricious Governor, and his no less rapacious attendant, were 
 so dazzled with the unusual splendor, that for some time they 
 could express nothing save joy and surprise, 
 
 " Ay, marry, sir," said Kihan, "the obstinate old kriave had 
 reasons for his hardihood. My own joints should have stood a 
 stain or two ere I surrendered such sparklers as these. — And 
 now, Sir Archibald, may your trusty follower ask you how this 
 booty is to be divided between the Duke and his Governor, ac- 
 cording to the most approved rules of garrison towns ? " 
 
 " Faith, we will suppose the garrison stormed, Kilian ; and, 
 in a storm, thou knowest, the first finder takes all — with due 
 consideration always of his trusty followers." 
 
 " As myself, for example," said Kilian. 
 
 " Ay, and myself, for example," answered a, voice, whicli 
 sounded like the echo of the esquire's words, from the, remote 
 corner of the ancient apartment. , ; i ! - , 
 
 " 'Sdeath ! we are overheard," exclaimed the Governor, 
 starting, and laying his, hand on his dagger. , 
 
 " Only by a faithful jfollower, as the worthy esquire ob- 
 serves," said the, ,execiitioner,, moving slowly forward. 
 
 " Villain, how didst thou dare watch me ? " said Sir Archi- 
 bald de Hagenbach. , , '..!,, 
 
 " Trouble not yourself for that, sir," said Kilian. " Hoti- 
 est Steinernherz has no tongue to speak, or e^r to hear, save 
 according to your pleasure. Indeed, we mustshoytly Jiaye ta.ken 
 him into our councils, seeing these men must lae dealt upon, 
 and that speedilv." , , 
 
 " Indeed ! "'said De Hagenbach ; " I had thought they 
 might be spared.", , , i ii , , ,. 
 
 " To tell tiie Duke of Burgundy how the, Governor of La 
 Ferette accounts to his treasurer for the duties and forfeitures 
 at his custom-house ?" demanded Kilian. , . ,. , 
 
 '• 'Tis true," said the Knight ; {\ dead men have neither 
 teeth nor tongue — they bite not, and the v tell no tales. Thou 
 wilt take, order ■Hfith them,,Scharfgerich,t?r." ,, _ ,, 
 
 " I will, my lord," answered the executioner," on condition 
 that, if this must be in the way of cjungeotj execution, whicli I 
 call cellar practice, my privilege to claim npbility shall be 
 saved and reserved to me, an^ the executipn .shall be declare,^ 
 to be as effectual to my claim, as it might have been if the 
 blow had been dealt in broad daylight; and with my honor- 
 aBle blade of cffice." , j, ,, , , .^ 
 
 De Hagenbach stared at the executioner, as hot understand- 
 
l6o ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 ing what he meant ; on which Kilian took occasion to explain, 
 that the Scharfgerichter was strongly impressed from the free and 
 dauntless conduct of the elder prisoner, that he was a man of 
 noble blood, from whose decapitation he would himself derive all 
 the advantages proposed to the headsman who should execute 
 his function on nine men of illustrious extraction. 
 
 "He 'may be right," said Sir Archibald, " for here is a slip 
 of parchment, commending the bearer of this carcanet to the 
 Duke, desiring him to accept it as a true token from one well 
 known to him, and to give the bearer full credence in all that 
 he should say on the part of those by whom he is sent." 
 
 " By whom is the note signed, if I may make bold to ask ? " 
 said JCilian. 
 
 " There is no name — the Duke must be supposed to col- 
 lect that information from the gems, or perhaps the handwrit- 
 ing-" 
 
 " On neither of which he is likely to have a speedy oppor- 
 tunity of exercising his ingenuity," said Kiliaq. 
 
 De Hagenbach looked at the diamonds, and smiled darkly. 
 The Scharfgerichter, encouraged by the familiarity into which 
 he had in a manner forced Himself, returned to his plea and in- 
 sisted on the nobility of thie supposed merchant. Such a trust, 
 and sjich a letter of unlimited credence, could never, he con- 
 tended, be intrusted to a man meanly born.* 
 
 " Thou art deceived, thou fool," said the Knight ; " kings 
 now use the lowest tools to do their dearest offices. Louis has 
 set the example of putting his barber, and the valets of his 
 chamber, to do the work formerly intrusted to dukes and peers ; 
 and other monarchs begin to think that it is better, in choosing 
 their agents, for important affairs, to judge rather by the quality 
 of men's brains than that of their blood. And as for the stately 
 look and bold bearing which distinguish yonder fellow in the 
 eyes of cravens like thee, it belongs to his countrj', not his 
 rank. Though thinkest it is in England as in Flanders, where 
 a city-bred burgher of Ghent, Liege, or Ypres, is as distinct an 
 animal from a knight of Hainault, ks a Flanders wagon-horse 
 from a Spanish jennet. But thou art deceived. England' has 
 many a merchant as haughty of heart, and as prompt of hand, 
 as any noljle-borri son of her rich bosom. But be not dejected, 
 thou foolish man ; do thy business well on this merchant,, and, 
 we shall presently have on our hands the Landamman of Unter- 
 walden, who, though a churl by his choice, is yet a nobleman 
 
 * Louis XI.. was probably the first King o£ France who flung aside all 
 aifectation of choosing his ministers from among the nobility. He often 
 placed men of mean birth in situations of the highest trust. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. l6i 
 
 by blood, and shall, by his well-deserved death, aid thee to get 
 rid of the peasant slough which thou art so weary qf.V 
 
 " Were not your excellency better adjourn these men's fate," 
 said Kihan, " till you hear something of them from the Swiss 
 prisoners whom we shall presently have in our power ? " 
 
 " Be it as you will," said Hagenbach, waving his hand, as 
 if putting aside some disagreeable task. " But let all be 
 finished ere I hear of it again." 
 
 The stern satellites bowed obedience, and the deadly con- 
 clave broke up ; their chief carefully securing the valuable gems 
 which he was willing to purchase at the expense of treachery to 
 the sovereign in whose employment he had enlisted himself, as 
 well as the blood of two innocent men. Yet, with a weakness of 
 mind not uncommon to great criminals, he shrank from the 
 thoughts of his own baseness and cruelty, and endeavored to 
 banish the feeling of dishonor from his niind, by devolving the 
 immediate execution of his villainy upon his subordinate agents. 
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. 
 
 And this place our forefathers built for man ! 
 
 ; , Old Play. 
 
 The dungeon in which the younger Philipson was immured * 
 was one of those gloomy caverns which cry shame on the inhu- 
 manity of our ancestors. They seem to have been almost in- 
 sensible to the distinction betwixt innocence and guilt, as the 
 consequences of mere accusation must have^ been far more 
 severe in those days, than is in our own that species of imprison- 
 ment which is adjudged as an express punishment for crime. , 
 
 The cell of Arthur Philipson was of considerable length, 
 but dark and narrow, and dug out of the solid rock upon which 
 the tower was founded, A small lamp was allowed him, not 
 however without some grumbling, but his arms were still kept 
 bound ; and when he asked for a draught of water, one of the 
 grim satellites, by whom he was thrust into, this cell, answered 
 surlily, that he might endure his thirst for all the time his life 
 was likely to last — a gloomy response, which augured that his 
 privations would continue as long as his life, yet neither be of 
 long duration. By the dim lamjs he had groped his way to a 
 bench, or rough seat, cut in the rock ; and, as his eyes got 
 
 * Note B. German dungeon. 
 
i62 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 gradually accustomed to the obscurity of the region in which 
 he was immured, he became aware of a ghastly cleft in the 
 floor of his dungeon,, somewhat resembling the opening of a 
 draw-well, but irregular in its aperture', and apparently the 
 mouth of a gulf of Nature's conformation, slightly assisted by 
 the labor of human art. 
 
 "Here then, is my death-bed," he said, "and that gulf 
 pei'haps the grave which yawns for my remains ! Nay, I have 
 heard of prisoners being plunged into such horrid abysses 
 while they were yet alive, to die at leisure, crushed with wounds, 
 their groans unheard, and their fate unpitied ! " 
 
 He approached his head to the dismal cavity, and heard, as 
 at a great deptii, the sound of a sullen, and, as it seemed, sub- 
 terranean stream. " The sunless waves appeared murmuring for 
 their victim. Death is dreadful at all ages ;' but in the first 
 springtide of youth, with all the feelings of enjoyment afloat, 
 arid eager for gratification, to be snatched forcibly from thb 
 banquet to which the individual has but just sat down, is pecul- 
 iarly appalling, even when the change comes in the ordinary 
 course of nature. But to sit, like young Philipson, on the 
 brink of the subterranean abyss, and ruminate in horrid doubt 
 concerning the mode in which death was to be inflicted, was a 
 situation which might break the spirit of the boldest; and the 
 unfortunate captive was wholly unable to suppress the natural 
 tears that flowed from his eyes in torrents, and which his bound 
 arms did not permit him to wipe away. We have already, 
 n,oticed that although a gallant yoyng man in aught of danger 
 which was to" be faced and overcome by active exertion, the 
 youth was strongly iinaginative, and sensitive to a powerful 
 extent to all those exaggerations, which, in a situation of help- 
 less uncertainty, fancy lends to distract the soul of him who 
 must passively expect an kpproaching evil. 
 
 Yet the feelings of Arthur Philipson were not selfish. They 
 reverted to his father, whose just and noble character was as 
 much formed to attract veneration, as his unceasing patern^ 
 care and affecliori to excite love and gratitude! He, too, was 
 in the hands of remorseless villains, who were determined to 
 conceal robbery by secret mutder — he, too, undaunted in 'so 
 many dangers, resolute in so many encounters, lay bound and 
 defenceless, exposed to the dagger of the meanest sta,bber. 
 Atthur remembered, too, the giddy peak of the rock near 
 Geierstein;' and the grim vultqt-e which claimed him as it's 
 prey.' Here was ho angel 'to fjurst through the. mist, and 
 marshal him on a path of safety — here the darkness was siiti- 
 terranean and'etfemkl, saving when the captive should behold 
 
ANNE OF GEIEKSTEIN. 163 
 
 the knife of the ruffian flash against the lamp, which lent him 
 light to aim the fatal blow. This agony of mind lasted until 
 the feelings of the unhappy prisoner arose 'to ecstasy. I;Ie 
 started up, and struggled so hard to free himself of his bonds, 
 that it seemed they should have fallen from him as from the 
 arrris of the mighty Nazarene. But the cords were of too firm 
 a texture ; and after a violent and unavailing struggle, in which 
 the ligatures seerted to enter his flesh, the prisoner lost his 
 balance, and, while the feeUng thrilled through h'im that he 
 was tumbling backward into the subterranean ab^ss, he fell to 
 the ground with great force. 
 
 Fortunately he escaped the danger' which in his agony he 
 apprehended, but so narrowly, that his head struck against the 
 low and broken fence with which the mouth of the horrible pit 
 was partly surrounded. Here he lay stdhned ahd motionless, 
 and, as the lamp was extingilished in his fall, immersed in 
 absolute and total darkness. He was recalled to sensation by a 
 ja;rri'ng noise. 
 
 " They come — they come — the murderers ! Oh, Lady of 
 Mercy ! and oh, grifcious Heaven, forgive my transgressions ! " 
 
 He looked up, and observed, with dazzled eyes, that a dark 
 form approached him, with a knife in one hand, and a torch in 
 the other. 'He might well have seerned the man whb was to do 
 the last deed upon the unhappy prisoner, if he had come alone. 
 But he came not alpne — his torch gleamed upon the white dress 
 of a female, which was so much illuminated by' it, that Arthur 
 could discover a form, and had even a glimpse of features, never 
 to be forgotten, though now seen under circumstances least of 
 all to be expected. The prisoner's unutterable astonishment 
 impressed hiin with a degree of awe which overcame even his 
 personal fear — ",Ca'n these thihgs'be?" was his muttered re- 
 flection ; " has. she really the power of an elenientary spirit ? has 
 she -Conjured up this earthlike and dark demon to concur with 
 her in my deliverance ? " 
 
 It appeared as if his guess were feal ; for the figure in black 
 giving the light to Anne of Geiersfein, or at least the form 
 which boi-e her perfect resetnblance, stooped over the prisoner, 
 and cut the cord that bound his arms, with so much despatch, 
 that it seemed as if it fell from his person a:t a touch. Arthur's 
 first attempt to raise was unsuccessful, and a second time it was 
 the hand of Anne of Geierstein—k living hand, sensible totOuch 
 as to sight — which- aided to ■ra;ise and to Support him, as it hail 
 formerly done when the tormented Waters of the river thundered 
 at their feet. Her touch produced an effect far beyond that of 
 the slight personal aid which the maiden's strength could have 
 
164 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 rendered. Courage was restored to his heart, vigor and anima- 
 tion to his benumbed and bruised limbs ; such influence does 
 the human mind, when excited to energy, possess over the in- 
 firmities of the human body. He was about to address Anne 
 in accents of tlie deepest gratitude. But the accents died away 
 on his tongue, when the mysterious female, laying her finger on 
 her lips, made him a sign to be silent, and at the same time 
 beckoned him to follow her. He obeyed in a silent amazement. 
 They passed the entrance of the melancholy dungeon, and 
 through one or two short but intricate passages, which, cut out 
 of the rock in some places, and built in others with hewn stone 
 of the same kind, probably led to holds similar to that in which 
 Arthur was so lately a captive. 
 
 The recollection that his father might be immured in some 
 such horrid cell as he himself had just quitted, induced Arthur 
 to pause as they reached the bottom of a small winding stair- 
 case, which conducted apparently from this region of the build- 
 ing- 
 
 " Come," he said, " dearest Anne, lead me to, his deliverance ! 
 I must not leave my father." 
 
 She shook her head impatiently, and beckoned him on. 
 
 " If your power extends not to save my father's life, I will 
 remain and save him or die ! — Anne, dearest Anne " 
 
 The answered not, but her companion replied, in a deep 
 voice, not unsuitable to his appearance, " Speak young man, to 
 those who are permitted to answer you ; or rather, be silent, 
 and listen to my .instructions, which direct to the only course 
 which can bring thy father to freedom and safety." ' 
 
 They ascended the stair, Anne of Geierstein going first; 
 while Arthur, who followed close behind, could not help think- 
 ing that her form gave existence to a part of the light which 
 her garment reflecjted from the torch. This was probably the 
 effect of the superstitious belief impressed on his mind by Ru- 
 dolph's tale respecting her mother, and which was confirmed by 
 her sudden appearance in a place and situation where, she was 
 so little to have been expected. He had not much time, how- 
 ever, to speculate upon her appearance or demeanor, for, 
 mounting the stair with a lighter pace than he was able at the 
 time to follow closely, she was no longer to be seen when he 
 reached the landing-place. But whether she had melted into 
 air, or turned aside into some other passage, he was not per- 
 mittee! a moment's leisure to examine. 
 
 " Here lies your way," said his sable guide ; and at the same 
 time dashing put the light, and seizing Philipson by the arm, 
 he led him along a dark gallery of considerable length. The 
 
ANNE OF GE'iERSTEIN. 165 
 
 young man was not without some momentary misgivings while, 
 he recollected the ominous looks of his conductor, and that he 
 was armed with a dagger, or knife, which he could plunge of 
 a sudden into his bosom. But he could not bring himself to 
 dread treachery from any one whom he had seen in company 
 with Anne of Geierstein ; and in his heart he demanded her 
 pardon for the fear which had flashed across him, and resigned 
 himself to the guidance of his companion, who advanced with 
 hasty but light footsteps, and cautioned him by a whisper to do 
 the same. 
 
 " Our journey," he at length said, " ends here." 
 
 As he spoke, a door gave way' and admitted them into a 
 gloomy Gothic apartment, furnished with large oaken presses, 
 apparently filled with books and manuscripts. As Arthur look- 
 ed round, with eyes dazzled with the sudden gleam of daylight 
 from which he had been for some time excluded, the door by 
 which they had entered disappeared. This, however, did not 
 greatly surprise him, who judged that, being formed in appear- 
 ance to correspond with the presses around the entrance which 
 they had used, it could not when shut be distinguished from 
 them ; a device sometimes then practiced, an indeed it often is 
 at the present day. He had now a full view of his deliverer, 
 who, when seen by daylight, showed only the vestments and 
 features of a clergyman, without any of that expression of super- 
 natural horror, which the partial light and the nielancholy 
 appearance of all in the dungeon had combined to impress on 
 him. 
 
 Young Philipson once more breathed: with freedom, as one 
 awakened from a hideous dream ; and the superna,tural qualities 
 witii whicli his imagination had invested Anne of Geierstein 
 having begun to vanish, he addressed his deliverer thus : — 
 " That I may testify iny thanks, holy father, where they are so 
 especially due, let me inquire of you, if Anne o£ Geierstein" 
 
 " Speak of that which pertains to your house and family," 
 answered the priest, as briefly as before. " Hast thou so soon 
 forgot thy father's danger ? " 
 
 " By heavens, no!" replied the youth ; " tell me but how to 
 act for his deliverance, and thou shalt see how a son can fight 
 for a parent ! " 
 
 " It is well, for it is needful," said the priest. " Don thou 
 this vestment and follow me." 
 
 The vestmerit presented was the gown and Jiood of a nov- 
 ice. 
 
 " Draw the cowl over thy face," sai(i the priest, " and re- 
 turn no answer to any man who meets here. I will say thou art 
 
1 66 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 under a vow. — May Heaven forgive the unworthy tyrant who 
 imposes on us the necessity of such profane dissimulation ! 
 Follow me close and hear — beware that you Speak not." 
 
 The business of disguise was soon accomplished, and the 
 Priest of St. Paul's, for such he was, moving on, Arthur follow- 
 ed him a pace or two behind, assuming as well as he could the 
 modest step and humble demeanor .of a spiritual novice. On 
 leaving the library, or study, and descending a sh6rt stair, he 
 found himself in the street of Breisach. Irresistibly tempted 
 to look back, he had only time, however, to see that the house 
 he had left was a very small building of a Gothic character, 
 On the one side of which rose the church of St. Paul's, and on 
 the other the stern black gate-house or entrance-tovyer. 
 
 " Follow me, Melchior," said' the deep voice of the priest; 
 and his keen eyes were at the same time fixed upon the sup- 
 posed novice, with a look which instantly recalled Arthur to a 
 sense of his situation.^ 
 
 They passed along, nobody noticing them, unless to greet 
 the priest with a silent obeisance, or muttered phrase of salu- 
 tation, until, having nearly gained the middle of the village, the 
 guide turned abruptly 9^ from the street, and moving north- 
 yard by a short lane, reached a flight of steps, which, as usual 
 in fortified towns, led to the banquette, or walk behind the 
 parapet, which was of the old Gothic fashion, flanked with' 
 towers from space to space, of different forms and various 
 heights at'different angles. 
 
 There were sentinels on the walls ; but the watch, as it 
 seemed, was kept not by regular soldiers, but by burghers, with 
 spears, or swords, in their hands. The first whom they passed 
 said to the priest, in a half whispered tone, "Holds our pur- 
 pose .' " 
 
 " It holds," replied the priest of St. Paul's—" Benedicite !" 
 
 " JDeo Gratias ! " replied the armed citizen, and continued 
 his walk upon the battlements. 
 
 The other sentinels seemed to avoid them ; fbr they disap- 
 peared when they came near, or passed them without looking. 
 Or seeming to observe them. At last their walk brought them 
 to-an ancient turret, which raised its head above the wall, and 
 in yhich there was a srna^l door opening from the battlement. 
 It was in a corner, distinct from and uncoramanded by any of 
 the angles of t^e fortification. In a well-guarded fortress, such 
 a point ought to have had a sentinel for its special protection, 
 but no one was there upon <|uty. 
 
 " Now mark me," said the priest, " for your father's life, and, 
 it may be, that of many a man besides, depends upon your 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 1 67 
 
 attention, and no less upon your despatch.— Yoti can run ? — 
 You can leap ? " 
 
 " I feel no weariness, father, since you freed me," answered 
 ^Arthur ; " and the dim deer that I have often chased shall not 
 beat me in such a wager." 
 
 " Observe, then," replied the Black Priest of St. Paul's, "this 
 turret contains a staircase, which descends to a small sallyport. 
 I will give you entrance to it — The sallyport is barred on the 
 inside, but not locked. It will give you access to the moat, 
 which is almost entirely dry. Oh crossing it, you will find your- 
 self in the circuit of the outer barriers. You may see sentinels, 
 but they will not see you — speak not to them, but make your 
 way over the palisade as you can. I trust you can climb over 
 an undeifended rampart .''^' ' 
 
 "I have surmbutited a defended one," said Arthur. "What 
 is my next charge ? — All this is easy." 
 
 " You will see a species of thicket, or stretch of low bushes 
 — make for it with ail speed. When you are there, turn to the 
 eastward ; but beware, while holding that course, that you are 
 not seen by the Burgundian Free Compainions, who are on watch 
 on that part of the walls. A volley of arrows, and the sally of a 
 body of cavalry in pursuit, will be the consequence, if they get 
 sight of you ; and their eyes are those of the eagle, that spy the 
 carnage afar off." 
 
 " I will be heedful," said the ybung Englishman. 
 
 "You will find,'" continued the priest, " upon the outer side 
 of the thicket a path, or rather a sheep-track, which, sweeping 
 at some distance from the walls, will conduct you at last into 
 the road leading from Breisach to BS;le. Hasten forward to 
 meet the Swiss who are advancing. Tell them your father's 
 hours are counted, and that they must press on if they would 
 save him ; and say to Rudolph Donnefhugel, in especial, that 
 the Black Priest of Saint Paul's waits to bestow upon him his 
 blessing at the northern sallyport. Dost thou uhderstand 
 me .? " 
 
 " Perfectlv," answered- the young man. 
 
 The Priest of Saint Paul's then pushed open the low-browed 
 gate of the turret, and Arthur was about to precipitate himself 
 down the stair which' opened before him. 
 
 " Stay yet a moment," said the Priest, " arid doff the novice's 
 habit, which can^ only encumber thee." 
 
 Arthur in a' trice threw it from 'him, and was again about to 
 start. 
 
 " Stay yet a monent longer," continued the Black Priest. 
 
1 68 ANNE OF GEIRRSTEIN. 
 
 " This gown may be a tell-tale — Stay, therefore, and help me to 
 pull off my upper garment." 
 
 Inwardly glowing with impatience, Arthur yet saw the 
 necessity of obeying his guide ; and when he had pulled the 
 long and loose upper vestment from the old man, he stood before ; 
 him in a cassock of black serge, befitting his order and profes- 
 sion, but begirt, no^ with a suitable sash such as clergymen wear, 
 but with a most uncanonical buff-belt, supporting a short two- 
 edged sword, calculated alike to stab and to smite. 
 
 "Give me now the novice's.habit," said the venerable father, 
 " and over that I will put the priestly vestment. Since for the 
 present I have some tokens of the laity about me, it is fitting 
 it should be cpvered with a double portion of the clerical habit." 
 
 As he spoke thus he smiled grimly ; and his smile had 
 something more frightful and withering than the stern frown, 
 I which suited better with his features, and was their usual 
 expression. , , . 
 
 " And now," said he, "what does the fool tarry for, when 
 life and death are in his speed ? " 
 
 The young messenger waited not a second hint, but at once 
 descended the stairs, as if it had been by a single step, found 
 the portal, as the priest had said, only secured by bars on the 
 inside, offering little resistance save from their rusted state,, 
 which made it difficult to draw them, Arthur succeeded, ~" 
 however, and found himself at the side of the moat, which 
 presented a green and marshy appearance. Without stopping 
 to examine whether it was deep or shallow, and almost without 
 being sensible of the tenacity of the morass, the young English- 
 ma,n forced his way through it and attained the opposite side 
 without attracting the attention of two worthy burghers of 
 Breisach, who were the guardians of the barriers. One of them 
 indeed was deeply employed in the perusal of some profane 
 chronicle or religious legend ; the other was as anxiously' 
 engaged in examining the margin of ' the moat, i in search of 
 eels, perhaps, or frogs, for he wore over his shoulder a scrip for, 
 securing some such amphibious booty. 
 
 Seeing that, as the priest foretold, he had nothing to appre- 
 hend from the vigilance of the sentinels, Arthur, dashed at the 
 palisade, in hope to catch hold of the top of the stockade, and 
 so to clear it by one bold leap. He overrated his powers of 
 activity, however, or they were diminished by his recent bonds 
 and imprisonment. He fell lightly backward on the ground, 
 and as he got to his feet, became aware of the presence of a 
 soldier, in yellow and blue, the livery of De Hagenbach, who 
 came running toward him, crying to the slothful and unob- 
 
ANNK OF GEIERSTEIN. 169 
 
 servant sentinels, " Alarm ! — alarm !— you lazy swine ! Stop 
 the dog, or you are both dead men." 
 
 The fisherman, who was on the further side, laid down his 
 eel-spear, drew his sword, and flourishing it over his, head, 
 advanced toward Philipson with very moderate haste. The 
 student was yet more unfortunate, for, in his hurry to fold up 
 his book and attend to his duty, he contrived to throw hinlself 
 (inadvertently, doubtless) full in the soldier's way. The latter, 
 who was running at top speed, encountered the burgher with a 
 severe shock, which threw both down ; but the citizen, being a 
 solid and substantial mati, lay still where he fell, while the other, 
 less weighty, and probably less prepared for the collision, lost his 
 balance and the command of his limbs at once, and, rolling 
 over the edge of the moat, was immersed in the mud and mkrsh. 
 The fisher and the student went with deliberate speed to assist 
 the unexpected and unwelcome partner of their watch ; while 
 Arthur, stimulated by the imminent sense of danger sprung at 
 the barrier with more address and vigor than before, and, suc- 
 ceeding in his leap, made, as he had been directed, with his 
 utmost speed for the covert' of the adjacent bushes. He 
 reached them without hearing any alarm from the walls. But 
 he was conscious that his situation had become extremely pre- 
 carious, since his escape from the town was known to one man 
 at least, who would not fail to give the alarm in case he was 
 able to extricate himself from the marsh, — a feat, however, in 
 which it seemed to Arthur that the armed citizens were likely 
 to prove rather his apparent than actual assistants. While such 
 thoughts shot across his mind, they served to augment his 
 natural, speed of foot, so that in less space than could have 
 been thought possible, he reached the thinner extrernity of the' 
 thicket, whence, as intimated by the Black Priest, he could 
 see the eastern tower and the adjoining battlements of the 
 town, — ' 
 
 " With hostile faces throng'd, and fiery arms." 
 
 It required, at the same time, some address oh the p'art of 
 the fugitive, to keep so much under shelter as to prevent him- 
 self from being seen in his turn by' those whom he saw so 
 plainly. ■ He therefore expected every moment to hear a bugle 
 wind, or to behold that bustle and commotion arriong the de- 
 fenders, which might prognosticate a sally. Neither, however, 
 took place, and needfully observing the footpath, or track, which 
 the priest had pointed out to him, young Philipson wheeled his 
 course out of sight of the guarded towers, and soon falling into 
 the public and frequented road, by which his father and he had 
 
lyo 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEJN. 
 
 approached the. town ;iii the morning, he had the happiness, by 
 the dust and flash of arms, to see a small body of armed men 
 advancing toward Breisach, whom he justly concluded to be the 
 van of the Swiss deputation. 
 
 He soon 'met the party, which consisted of about ten men, 
 with Rudolph Donnerhugel at their headi The figure of Philip- 
 son, covered with mud, and some; places stained with blood 
 (for his fall in the dungeon had cost him a slight wound), at- 
 tracted the wonder of every one. who crowded; around to hear 
 the news. Rudolph alone appeared unmoved. Like the visage 
 on the ancient statues of Hercules, the physiognomy of the 
 bulky Bernese was large and imassive, having an air of indif- 
 ferent and almost sullen composure, which did not change: but 
 in moments of the fiercest agitation. 
 
 He listened without emotion to the breathless tale of 
 Arthur Philipson, that his father was in prison, and ad- 
 judged to death. 
 
 " And what else did you expect ? " said the Bernese coldly. 
 " Were you not warned ? It had been easy to have foreseen . 
 the misfortune, but it may be impossible to prevent it." 
 
 " I own — I own," said Arthur, wringing his hands, " that 
 you were wise, and that we were foolish. — But oh ! do not 
 think. of our folly, in. the moment of our extremity! Be the. 
 gallant and generous champion which your Cantons proclaim 
 you — give us your aid in this deadly strait ! " 
 
 " But how,, or in, what manner?" said Rudolph, still: hesi- 
 tating, " We have dismissed, the Balese, who were willing to 
 have given assistance, so much did your dutiful example weigh 
 with us. We are now scarce above a score of men — how can 
 you ask us to attack a garrison town, secured by fortifications, 
 and where there are six times our number ? " 
 
 " Yqu have friends, within the fortifications,?' replied) Arthur 
 — " I am sure you have. Hark in your ear — The Black Priest 
 sent to you — to you, Rudolph Donnerhugel of Berne — that he 
 waits to give you his blessing at the northern sallyport." 
 
 "Ay, doubtless," said Rudolph, shaking himself free of 
 Arthur's attempt to engage him in private conference,; and 
 speaking so that all around might hear him, " there is little 
 doubt on't; I will find , a priest af the northern sallyport to 
 confess £ind absolve me, and a block, axe^, and headsman,ito 
 strike my throat asunder when he has done. But I will scarce 
 put the neck of my father's son into such risk. If they assas- 
 sinate; an English pedler, who has never offended them, what 
 will they do vyiththe Bear of iBerne^ whose fangs and talons 
 Archibald de Hagenbach has felt ere now ? " 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEiN. 1 71' 
 
 Young Philiijson ait these words plasped his hands together, 
 and held them up to Heaven, as one who abandons hope, ex- 
 cepting from thence. The tears started to his . eyes, and, 
 clenching his hands and setting his teeth, he turned his back 
 abruptly upon the Swiss/ ^ ,,. 
 
 " What means this passion ? " said Rudolph. " Whither 
 would you now .■' " 
 
 " To rescue my father, or perish with him," said Arthur ; 
 and was about to run wildly bade to La Ferette, when a strong i 
 but kindly grasp detained him. 
 
 "Tarry a little till I tie my garter," s§Lid,Sigismund Bieder- 
 man, " and I will go with you. King Arthiir." 
 
 "You, oaf?" exclaimed Rudolph, "you — and without 
 orcJers ? " 
 
 " Why, look you, cousin Rudolph," said the youth,, contiiii;-, 
 ing, with great composure, to fasten his garter, which, after the 
 fashion of the time, was somewhat intricately secured — "you 
 are always telling us that we are Swiss and freemen ; arid vyhat 
 is the advantage of being a freeman, if o,ne is noi: at liberty to 
 do what he has a mind ? You are my Hauptman, look you, so 
 long as it pleases me, and no longer." 
 
 " And why shouldst thoii desert me now, thou fool ? Why 
 at this, minute, of all otlier minutes in the year? " demanded 
 the Bernese. 
 
 "Look ypu," replied the insubordinate follower, "I Jiave, 
 hunted with Arthur for this m,onth past, and I.loye hjin— l;j§'"^.' 
 never called me fool or idiot, because my thoughts came 
 .slower, may be, and something duller, than those of other folk. 
 And I love his father — tJie old man gave me this baldric arid 
 this horn, which I warrant cost many a kreutzer. He told me, 
 top, not to be discouraged, for that it was better to think justly 
 than to think fast, and, that I, had sense enough for the one if 
 not for the other. Arid the kind old man is, now in Ha'gen- 
 bach's butcher-shambles! — But 'we' will free him, Arthur,' i^ two 
 men may. Thou shalt see me fight, while steel blade and 
 ashen shaft will hold together." 
 
 So saying, he shook in the air his enormoys partisan, which 
 quivered in his grasJD like a slip of' willow. ; Ipdeed, if Ioiquil;y 
 was to be struck down like an ox, there was npti one' iothaf 
 chosen band more likely to perform the feat thap. Sigi^mund ; , 
 for though somewhat shorter -in stature! than his^ brethren, and 
 of a less animated "spirit, yet his- breadth of shoulders ^^nd, 
 strength of muscles were enormous^ and if thorQugl4y_arbuse4, 
 and disposed for the contest, wliic^, was very rafery itlie case, 
 
172 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 perhaps Rudolph himself might, as far as sheer fojce went, 
 have had difficulty in matching him. 
 
 Truth of sentiment and energy of expression always produce 
 an effect on natural and generous characters. Several of the 
 youths around began to exclaim that Sigisraund said well ; that 
 if the old man had put himself in danger, it was because he 
 J thought more of the success of their negotiatipn than of his 
 own safety, and had taken himself from under their protection, 
 rather than involve them in quarrels on his account. " We are 
 the more bound," they said, " to see him unscathed ; and we 
 will do. so." 
 
 " Peace ! all you wiseacres," said Rudolph, looking round with 
 an air of superiority ; " and you, Arthur of England, pass on to 
 the Landamman, who is close behind ; you know he is our chief 
 commander, he is no less your father's sincere friend, and what- 
 ever he ma^ determine in your father's favor, you will find most 
 ready executors of his pleasure in all of us." 
 
 His companions appeared to concur in this advice, and 
 young Philipson saw that his own compliance with the recom- 
 mendation was indispensable. Indeed, although he still sus- 
 pected that the Bernese, by his various intrigues, as well with 
 the Siyiss youth as with those of BS.le, and, as might be inferred 
 from the Priest of Saint Paul's, by communication, even within 
 the town of La Ferette, possessed the greater power of assisting 
 him at such a conjuncture ; yet he trusted far more in the sim- 
 ple Candor and perfect faith of Arnold Biederman, and pressed 
 forward to tell to him his mournful tale, and crave his assist- 
 ance. 
 
 From the top of a bank which he reached in a few minutes 
 after he parted from Rudolph and the advanced guard, he saw 
 beneath him the venerable Landamman and his associates, 
 accompanied by a few of the youths who no longer were dis- 
 persed upon the flanks of the party, but attended on them 
 closely and in military array, as men prepared to repel any 
 sudden attack. 
 
 Behind came a mule or two with baggage, together with the 
 animals which, in the ordinary course of their march, supported 
 Anne of Geierstein and her attendant. Both were occupied by 
 female figures as usual, and to the best of Arthur's ken, the 
 foremost had the well-known dress of Anne, from the gray 
 mantle to a small heron's plume, which, since entering Germany, 
 she had worn in compliance with the custom of the country, 
 and in evidence of her rank as a maiden of birth and distinc- 
 tion. Yet, if the youth's eyes brought him true tidings at pres; 
 ent, what was the character of their former information, when. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 173 
 
 scarce more than half-an-hour since, they had beheld, in the 
 subterranean dungeon of Breisach, the same form which they 
 now rested upon, in circumstances so very different ! The 
 feeling excited by this thought was powerful, but it was momen- 
 tary, like the lightning which blazes through a midnight sky, 
 which is but just seen ere it vanishes into darkness. Or rather, 
 the wonder excited by this marvelous incident only maintained 
 its ground in his thoughts, by allaying itself with, the anxiety 
 for his father's safety, which was their predominant occupation. 
 
 If there be indeed a spirit," he said, " which wears that 
 beautiful form, it must be beneficent as well as lovely, and will 
 extend to my far more deserving father the protection which 
 his son has twipe experienced. 
 
 But ere he had time to prosecute such a thought further, he 
 had met the Landamman and his party. Here his appearance: 
 and his condition excited the same surprise as they had formerly 
 occasioned to Rudolph' and the vanguard. To thp repeated in- 
 terrogatories of the Landamman, he gave a brief account of his 
 own imprisonment, and of his. escape, of which he suffered the 
 whole glory to rest with the Black Priest of St. Paul's, without 
 mentioning one word of the more interesting female apparition 
 by which lie had been attended and assisted in his charitable 
 task. On another point also Arthur was silent. He saw no 
 propriety in communicating to Arnold Biederman the message 
 which the priest had addressed to Rudolph's ear alone. 
 Whether good should come of it or no, he held sacred the obli- 
 gation of silence imposed upon him by a man from whom he 
 had just received the most important assistance. 
 
 The Landamman was struck dumb for a moment, with sor- 
 row and surprise, at the news ' which he heard. The elder 
 Philipson had gained his respect, as well by the purity and 
 steadiness of the principles which he expressed, as by the ex- 
 tent and depth of his information, which was peculiarly valuable 
 and interesting to the Switzer, who felt his adnpirable judgment 
 considerably fettered for want of that knowledge of countries, 
 times, and manners, with which his English friend often sup- 
 plied him. 
 
 " Let us press forward," he said to the Banneret of Berne 
 and the other deputies ; " let us offer our mediation betwixt 
 the tyrant De Hagenbach and our friend, whose life is in dan- 
 ger. He must listen to us, for I know his master expects to 
 see this Philipson at his court. The old man hinted to me so 
 much. As we are possessed of such a secret, Archibald de 
 Hagenbach will not dare to brave our vengeance, since we 
 might easily send to Duke Charles information how the Gov- 
 
174 
 
 ANNE OP GEIERSTBIN. 
 
 ernor of La Ferette abuses his power, in matters where not 
 only the Swiss, but where the Duke himself is concerned." 
 
 "Under your'reverend favor, my worthy sir," answered the 
 Banneret of Berne, "we are Swiss Deputies, and go to repre-- 
 sent the injuries of Switzerland alone. If we embroil ourselves^' 
 wtth the quarrels of strangers, we shall find it more difficult to 
 settle advantageously those of our own country ; and if the-Duke 
 should, by this villany done upon English merchants, bring upoti 
 him the resentment of 'the English monarch, such breach will 
 only render it more a matter of -peremptory necessity for him to 
 make a treaty advantageous to the Swiss Cantons." 
 
 There was so much worldly policy in this advice, that Adam 
 Zimmerman of Soleure instantly expressed his assent, with the 
 additional argument, that their brother Biederman had told them 
 scarce two hours before, how these English merchants had, by 
 his advice and their own free desire, parted cohipaiiy with them 
 that morning, on purpose that they might not involve the Depu- 
 ties in the quarrels which might be raised by the Governor's ex- 
 actibns on his merchandise, 
 
 " Now what advantage," he said, " shall we derive from this 
 same parting of company, supposing, as my brother seema to 
 urge, we are still to consider this Englishman's interest as if he 
 were our fellow-traveler, and' under our especial protection ? " ■ 
 
 This personal reasoning pinched the Landamman somewhat 
 closely, for he had but a short while before descanted on the 
 generosity of the elder Philip'son, who had freely exposed him- 
 self to danger, rather than that he shouldembarrass their nego- 
 tiation by remaining one of their company; and it completely 
 shook the fealty of the white-bearded iSFicholas Bonstetten, 
 whose eyes wandered from the face of Zimmerman, which ex- 
 pressed triumphant confidence in his argument, to that of his 
 friend the Landamman, which was rather rhore embarrassed than 
 usual. , ■' 
 
 '• Brethren," said Arnold at length, with firmness and anima- 
 tion, " I erred in priding myself upon the worldly policy which 
 I taught to you this morning. This man is not of our country, 
 doubtless, but he is of our bloodr— a copy of the common Crea- 
 tor's image — and the more worthy of being called so, as he is a 
 man of integrity and worth. ' We might not, without grievous 
 sin, pass such a person, being in dariger, withput affording him 
 relief, even if he lay accidentally by the side of our path ; much 
 less should we abandon him if the danger has been incurred in 
 our own cause, and that we might escape the net in which he is 
 himself caught. Be not, therefore downcast — We do God's will 
 in succoring an oppressed man. If we succeed by mild means, 
 
ANNE OJ-- GEIEJiSTEIN. 
 
 175 
 
 as I trust we sha]l, we do agood action at acheap rate ; — if not, 
 God can assert the cause of humanity by the hauds of a few as 
 well as of many." 
 
 " If such is your opitiion," said' the Bannerman of Berne, 
 "not a man here will shrink from you. For rne,- I pleaded 
 against my own inclinations, when I, advised you tot avoid a, 
 breach with the Burgundian. But as a soldier, I must needs 
 say I would rather fight the garrison, were they double, the 
 number they talk of, in a fair field, than undertake tor storm 
 their defences." 
 
 " Nay," said the Landamraan, " I sincerely hope we shall 
 both enter and, depart from the town of Breisach, .without devi- 
 ating from the pacific character with which our mission from, 
 the Diet invests us." 
 
 CHAPTER SIXTEENTif. 
 
 For Somerset,, .pff^-with, his guilty head. 
 
 ' ' '-■' Third Part OF Henry VI. 
 
 The Governor of La Ferette stood on the battlements of 
 the eastern entrance-tower of his fortress, and looked out on 
 the road to Bile, when first the vanguard of the Swiss mission, 
 then the centre and reaf, appeared in the distance. At the 
 same moment the van hailing, the main body closed with it, 
 whijle the females and baggage, and mutes, in the rear, rnovedMn 
 their turn .up to. the main body, and the whole were united in 
 one group. 
 
 A messengpr then stepped forth, and winded one of those 
 tremendous horns, the spoils of the wild. bulls so numerous in 
 the Canton of Uri, that they are supposed to have given rise to 
 its name. 
 
 "They demanded admittanpe," said, the esquire. 
 
 " They shall have it," answered Sir Archibald de Hagen- 
 bach. "Marry, how they may pass oijt again, is another and.; 
 a^cjeeper question." 
 
 "Think yet a moment,, noble sir," contipued the esquire. 
 " Bethink you, these Switzers are very fiends in fight, and have, 
 besides, no booty to repay , the conquests— sqme paltry cha,in of 
 good copper, perchance, or adulterated silver. You have 
 knocked out the marrow — do not damage your teeth by trying 
 to grind the bone." 
 
176 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " Thou art a fool, Kilian," answered De Hagenbach, " and 
 it may be a coward besides. The approach of some score, or 
 at most some score and a half of Swiss partisans, makes thee 
 draw in thy horns like a snail at a child's finger ! Mine are 
 strong and inflexible as those of the Urus, of whom they talk so 
 inuch, and on which, they blow so boldly. Keep in mind,i thou 
 timid creature, that if the Swiss Deputies, as they presume to 
 call themselves, are permitted to pass free, they carry to the 
 Duke stories of merchants bound to his court, and fraught with 
 precious commodities, specially addressed to his Grace ! 
 Charles has then at once to endure , the presence of the 
 ambassadors, whom he contemns and hates, and learns by them 
 that the Governor of La Ferette, permitting such to pass, has, 
 nevertheless' presumed to stop those whom he would full 
 gladly see ; for what prince would not blithely welcome such a 
 casket as that which we have taken from yonder strolling 
 English pedler ? " 
 
 " I see not how the assault on these ambassadors will mend 
 your excellency's plea for despoiling the Englishmen," said 
 Kilian. 
 
 '" Because thou art a blind mole,' Kilian," answered his chief. 
 " If Burgundy hears of a ruffle between my garrison and the 
 mountain churls, whom he scorns and yet hates, it will drown 
 all notice of the two pedlers who have perished in the fray. If 
 after inquiry should come, an hour's ride transports me with 
 my confidants into the Imperial dominions, where, though the 
 Emperor be a spiritless fool, the rich prize I have found on these 
 islanders will ensure me a good reception." 
 
 " I will" stick by your excellency to the last," returned the 
 esquire ; " and you shall yourself witness, that if a fool, I am 
 at least no coward." 
 
 " I never thought thee sucli when it came to hand blows," 
 said Da Hagenbach ; " but in policy thou art timid and irres- 
 olute. Hand me mine armor, Kilian, and beware thou bra,ce 
 it well. The Swiss pikes and swords are no wasp-stings." 
 
 " May your excellency wear it with honor and profit," said 
 Kilian ; and, according to the duty of his office, he buckled upon 
 his principal the complete panoply of a knight of the empire. 
 " Your purpose of assaulting the Swiss then .holds firm ? " said 
 Kilian. " But what pretext will your excellency assign ? " 
 
 " Let me alone," said Archibald de Hagenbach, " to take 
 one, or to make one. Do j-ou only have Schonfeldt and the 
 soldiers on their stations. And remember the words are — 
 ' Burgundy to the Rescue.* When these words are first spoken, 
 let the soldiers show themselves — when repeated, let them fall 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 177 
 
 on. And now that I am accoutred, away to the churls and 
 admit them." 
 
 Kilian bowed, and withdrew. 
 
 The bugle of the Switzers had repeatedly emitted its angry 
 roar, exasperated by the delay of nearly half-an-hour, without 
 an answer from the guardecl gate of Breisach ; and every blast 
 declared, by the prolonged echoes which it awakened, the in- 
 creased irnpatience of those who summphed the town. At 
 length the portcullis arose, the gate opened, the drawbridge fell, 
 and Kilian, in the equipage of a man-at-arms arrayed for fight, 
 rode forth on an ambling palfrey. 
 
 " What bold men are ye, sirs, who are here in arms before 
 the fortress of Breisach, appertaining in right and seignorie to 
 the thrite noble Duke of Burgundy and Lorraine, and garrispned- 
 for his cause and interest by the excellent Sir Archibald, Lord 
 of Hagenbach, Knight of the most Holy Roman .Empire ? " 
 
 " So please you. Sir Esquire," said the Landamman, " for 
 such I conjecture you to be by the feather in your bonnet, we 
 are here with no hostile intentions ; though armed, as you see, 
 to defend us in a perilous journey, where we are spmething, 
 unsafe by day, and cannot always repose by night in places of 
 security. But our arms have no offensive purpose ; if they had 
 such, our numbers had not been so few as you see them." 
 
 " What then is yoiir character and purpose ? " said Kilian, 
 who had learned to use, in his master's absence, the lordly and 
 insolent tone of the Governor himself. 
 
 " We are Delfegates," answered the Landamman, in a calm 
 and even tone of voice, without appearing to take offence at, or 
 . to observe, the insolent demeanor of the Esquire, " from the 
 Free and Confederated Cantons of the Swiss States and prov- 
 inces, and from the good town of Soleure, who are accredited 
 from our, Diet of Legislature to travel to. the presence of his 
 Grace the Duke of Burgundy, on ap errand of high importance 
 to both countries, and, with a hope of establishing with your 
 master's lord^I mean with the noble Duke of Burgundy — a 
 sure and steadfast peace, upon such terms as shall be to the 
 mutual honor and advantage of both counti'ies, and to avert 
 disputes, and the effusion of Christiail blood, which may other- 
 wise be shed for want of timely and good understanding." 
 
 " Show me your ,1'etters of credence," said the esquire. 
 
 " Under your forgiveness, Sir Esquire," replied the Lan- 
 damman, " it will be time enough to exhibit these when we are 
 admitted to^the presence of your master the Governor." 
 
 " That is as much as to say, wilful will to it. It is well, my 
 master ; and yet you may take this advice from Kilian of 
 
1 78 AN.VE' OF CEiEKSTEIN. 
 
 Kersbferg. It is somelimes better to reel backward than to 
 run forward. — My master, and my master's master, are more 
 ticklish persons than the dealers of Bile, to whom you sell your 
 cheeses. Home, honest men, home \ your waylies before you, 
 and you are fairly warned." . . , . 
 
 " We thank thee for thy counsel," said the Landamman, 
 interrupting the Banneret of Berne, who had commenced an 
 angry reply, " supposing it kindly meant ; if not, an uncivil jest 
 is like ah overcharged gun, which recoils on the carinonier. Our 
 road lies onWard through Breisach, and onward we propose to go, 
 and take such hap as that: which we may find before us." , 
 
 " Go onward then, in the devil's name," said the squire, who 
 had eritertaiined' some hope pf deterring theni from pursuing 
 their journey, but found himself effectually foiled. 
 
 The Switzers entered the town, and stopped by the barricade 
 of cars which the Governor had formed across the streets, at 
 about twenty yards from the gate, they drew themselves up in 
 military order, with' their little body formed, into three lines, 
 the two females and the fathers of the deputation being in the 
 centre; The little phalanx presented a double front, one to 
 each side of the ' street, >yhile the centre line faced so as to 
 move forward, and only waited for the removal of the barricade ■. 
 in order to do so. But while they stood thus inactive, a knight 
 in'complefe armor appeared from a side door of 'the great tower, 
 urider the arch of which they had entered into the town. His 
 visor was raised, and he walked along the front pf the little line 
 foi'med by the Swiss, witli a stern frowning, aspect. 
 
 " Who are you," he said,," who have thus far intruded your- 
 selves in arms into a Burgundian garrison ? " 
 
 "With your excellency's leave," said, the Landamman, " we 
 are men who come on a peaceful errand, though we carry arras 
 for our6wn defence. Deputies we are from the towns of Berne 
 and Soleure, the Cantons of Uri, Sctwytz, and Unterwalden, 
 cotne to adjust matters of importance with the gracious Duke of 
 Burgundy and Lorraine." 
 
 " What towns, what cantons ? " said the Governor of La 
 Ferette. " I have heard ,no such names among the Free 
 Cities of Germany. — Berne, truly ! when became Berne a 
 Free State?" . 
 
 " Sitice the twenty-first day of June," said Arnold Biedernjan, 
 " in the year of grace one thousand three hundred and thirty- 
 nine, on which day the battle of Laupen was fought." 
 
 "Away, vain old man," said the Knigbtt ; " thmkest thou 
 that stich idle boasts can ' avail thee here ? We have heard, 
 indeed, of some insurgent villages and cominunitieS among the 
 
AKNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 1 79 
 
 Alps, and hoiiv they rebelled against the Emperor, alnd'by the 
 advantage of ' fastnesses, ambuscades, and lurking-places, how 
 they have murdered some knights' andgentlemen sent against 
 them by the Duke of Austria ; but we little thought that such 
 paltry townships and insignificant bands of mutineers had the 
 insolence to term themselves Free States, and'proposeto enter 
 into negotiations as such with a mighty prince like Charles of 
 Burgundy." i 
 
 "May it please your excellency," replied the Landamman,' 
 with perfect temper, "your own lawsof chivalry ■ declare, that 
 if the stronger wrong the weaker, or the noble does injury to 
 the less gentle, the very act levels distinctions between them, 
 and thedber of an injury becomes bound to give condign satis- 
 faction, of such kind as the wronged party shall detnand." 
 
 " Hence to thy hills, churl ! 1' exclai'med the haughty Knight ; 
 "there comb thy beard ' and roast thy chestnuts.' What! 
 .because a few rats and mice find retreat among the walls and 
 \yainscoting of our dwelling-houses, shall we therefore allow 
 them to intrude their disgusting presence, and their airs of free- 
 dom and independence, into our personal presence ? No, we 
 will rather crush them beneath the heel ' of our ironshpd boots." 
 
 " We are not men to be trodden on," said Arnold Bieder- 
 man, calmly; "those who have attempted it have found us 
 stumbling-blocks. Lay, Sir ^Knight, lay aside for an' instant 
 this haughty language, which can only lead to warfare, a:nd 
 listen to the' words of peace. Dismiss our comrade, t'he English 
 merchant Philipson, on whom you have this mbrning laid un- 
 lawful hands ; let him pay a moderate sum for his ransoifl, and '■ 
 we, who are bound instantly to the Duke's presence, will bekr 
 a fair report to him of his Goverrior of La Ferette." 
 
 " You will be so geberous, will you ! " said Sir Archibald, in 
 a tone of ridicule. "And: what pledge shall I have that you 
 will favor me so kindly as youpropose^ ?" 
 
 " The word of a man who never brOkeihis pronriise," answered 
 the stoical Landamman. 
 
 " Indolent hind ! "'■ replied the Knight, " dost thou stipulate ? 
 thou offer thy paltry word as a pledge betwixt the Duke of 
 Burgundy arid Archibald' de Hagenbach ? Know* that ye go 
 not to Burgundy at all, or you go. thither with' fetters on your 
 hands and halters round your necks.— So ho,' Burgundy to the' 
 Rescue ! " 
 
 Instantly, as he spoke, the; soldiers showed themselves before, 
 behind, and around the narrow space where the Swiss had 
 drawn themselves up; The battlements of the town were lined 
 with men,. others presented themselves at the doors of eaoh 
 
I So ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 house in the street, prepared to sally, and, at t^e windows, 
 prepared to shoot, as well with guns as with bows and crossbows. 
 The soldiers who defended the barricade also started up, and 
 seemed ready to dispute the passage in fi;ont. The little band, 
 encompassed and over-matched, but neither startled nor dis- 
 heartened, stood to their arms. The centre rank under the 
 Landamman prepared to force their way over the barricade. 
 The two fronts stood back to back, ready to dispute the street 
 with those that should issue from the houses. It could not fail 
 to prove' a work of no small blood and toil to subdue this 
 handful of determined men, even with five times their number. 
 Some sense of this, perhaps, niadei Sir Archibald delay giving 
 the signal for onset, when suddenly behind arose a cry of 
 " Treason, treason ! " 
 
 A soldier covered with mud rushed before the Governor, 
 and said, in hurried accents, that, as he endeavored to stop a 
 prisoner who had made his escape some short time since, he 
 had (seen seized by the burghers of the town, and well-nigh 
 drowned in the moat. He added, that the citizens were even 
 now admitting, the enemy into the place. 
 
 " Kilian," said the Knight, " take two score of men — hasten 
 to the porthern sallyport ; stab, cut down, or throw from the 
 battlements, whomsoever you meet in arms, townsmen or 
 strangers. Leave me to settle withthese peasants by fair means 
 or foul." 
 
 But ere Kilian could obey his master's commands, a shout 
 arose in the, rear, where they cried, " Bale ! Bile ! — Freedom ! 
 freedom ! — The day is our own ! " 
 
 ■ Onward came the youth of Bale, who had not been at such 
 a distance but that Rudolph had contrived to recall them — 
 onward came many Swiss who had hovered around the embassy, 
 holding themselves in readiness for such a piece of service ; 
 and onward came the armed citizens of La Ferette, who, com- 
 pelled to take arms and mount guard by the tyranny of De 
 Hagenbach, had availed themselves of the opportunity to admit 
 the BAlese, at the sallyport through which Philipson had^lately 
 made his escape. 
 
 The garrison, somewhat discouraged before by the firm aspect 
 of the Swiss who had held their number's at defiance, were 
 totally disconcerted by this new and unexpected insurrection. 
 Most of them prepared rather to fly than to fight, and they 
 threw themselves in numbers from the walls, as the best chance 
 of escaping. Kilian and some others, whom pride prevented 
 from flying, and despair from asking quarter, fought with fury, 
 and were killed on the spot. In the midst of this confusion 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. l8l 
 
 the Landamman kept his own bands unmoved, permitting them 
 to take no share in the action, save to repel such violence as 
 was offered to them. 
 
 " Stand fast" all ! " sounded the deep voice of Arnold Bieder- 
 man along their little body. " Where is Rudolph ? — Save lives, 
 but take none. — Why, how now, Arthur Philipson ! stand fast, 
 I say." 
 
 " I cannot stand fast," said Arthur, who was in the' act of 
 leaving the ranks. " I must seek my father in the dungeons; 
 they may be slaying him in this confusion while. I stand idle 
 here." 
 
 " By our Lady of Einsiedlen, you say well," answered the 
 Landamman ; " that I should have forgot my noble guest ! I 
 will help thee to search for him, Arthur^— the aflEray seems well- 
 nigh ended. — Ho, there. Sir Banneret, worthy Adam Zimmer- 
 man, my good friend Nicholas Bonstetten, keep our men standing 
 firm. — Have nothing to do with this affray, but leave the men 
 of Bile to answer their own deeds. I return in a few minutes." 
 
 So saying, he hurried after Arthur Philipson, whose recollec- 
 tion conducted him, with sufficient accuracy, to the head of the 
 dungeon stairs. There they met an ill-looking man clad in a 
 buff jerkin, who bore at his girdle a bunch of rusted keys, which 
 intimated the nature of his calling. 
 
 " Showme the prison Df the English merchant, "said Arthur 
 Philipson^ "or thou diest by my hand ! " 
 
 " Which of them desire you to see ? " answered the official : — 
 " the old man, or the young one ? " 
 
 "The old," said young Philipson. " His son has escaped 
 thee." 
 
 " Enter here then, gentlemen," said the jailer, undoing the 
 spring-bolt of a heavy door. 
 
 At the upper end of the apartment lay the man they came to 
 seek for, who was instantly raised from the ground, and loaded 
 with their embraces. 
 
 " My dear father ! "-^" My worthy guest ! " said his son and 
 friend at the same moment, "how fares it with you .'" 
 
 " Well," answered the elder Philipson, " if you, my friend, 
 and son, come, as I judge from' your arms and countenance, as 
 conquerors, and at liberty — ill, if you come to share my prison- 
 house." 
 
 " Have no fear of that," said the Landamman ; " we have 
 been in danger, but are remarkably delivered. — Your evil lair 
 has benumbed you. Lean on me, my noble guest, and let me 
 assist you to better quarters." 
 
 Here he was interrupted by a heavy clash, as it seemed, of 
 
i82 ANNE OF GEIERSTEJN. 
 
 iron, and differing from the distant roar of the popular tumult, 
 which they still heard from the open street, as men hear the 
 deep voice of a remote and tempestuous ocean. 
 
 ' " By Saint Peter of the fetters i "'said Arthur,' who instantly 
 disQOvered the cause of the sound, " die jailer 'has cast the 
 door to. the staple, or it has escaped his graSp, The spring- 
 lock has closed upon us, and we cannot be liberated saving 
 from the outside,^- Ho, jailer dog;! villain ! open the door, or 
 thoudiest!" 
 
 " He is probably out of hearing, of your threats/' said the 
 elder Pbilipson, " and your cries avail you nothing. But are 
 you sure the Swiss are in possession of the town "i " 
 
 " We are peaceful occupants of it," answered the Landam- 
 man, "though without ablow- given on our side." 
 
 "Why then," said the Englishman, "your followers will 
 soon find you out. Arthur and I are paltry ciphers, and our 
 absence might easily pasS; over unobserved ; but you are too. 
 important a figure, not to be missed and looked after, when the 
 sum of your number is taken." 
 
 " I well hope it, will prove so," said the Landamman, 
 " though methinks L show but scurvily, shut up here like a cat 
 in a cupboard, when he has been stealing cream — Arthur, my 
 brave boy, dost thou see no means of shooting back the bolt? " 
 
 Arthur, who h|ad been minutely examining the lock, replied 
 in the negative ; and added, ithat they must take' pati-ence 
 perforce, and arm theinselvEs to wait calmly their deliverance, 
 which they could do nothing to accelerate. 
 
 Arnold . Bieiderm an, however, felt somewhat severely the 
 neglect of his sons and companions. 
 
 "All my youths, uncertain whether I am alive or dead, are 
 taking the opportunity of my absence, doubtless, for pillage and 
 license^andthe; politic Rudolph, I presume, cares not if I 
 should never reappear on the stage— ^the Banneret, and the 
 white-bearded fool Bonstetten, who calls me his friend — every ' 
 n(ji|hbpr has deserted rae^-^and yet they know that I am 
 anxious for- the safety of the most insignificant of them all, as 
 dearer to me than my own. By heavens ! it looks like strata- 
 gem ; and shows as if the rash young men desired to get rid of 
 a rule too regular and peaceful to be pleasing to those who are 
 eager for war and conquest." 
 
 The Landamman, fretted out of his usual serenity of temper, 
 and afraid of the misbehavior of his countrymen in his absence, 
 thus reflected upon his friends and companions, while the 
 distant noise soon died away into the most absolute and total 
 silence. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 183 
 
 "What is to do now ?" said Arthur Philipson. " I trust 
 they wrill take the opportunity of quiet to go through the roll- 
 Call, and inquire then who are amissing." 
 
 It seemed as if the young man's wish had some efficacy, for 
 he had scarce uttered it before the lock was turned, and the 
 door set ajar by some one who' escaped upstairs from behind it, 
 before those who were set at liberty could obtain a glance of 
 their deliverer. 
 
 " It is the jailer, doubtless," said the Landamman, '' who 
 maybe apprehensive, as he has some reason, that we might 
 prove more incensed at our detention in the dungeon, than 
 grateful ior our deliverance." 
 
 As they spoke thus, they ascended the narrow stairs, and 
 issued'from the door of the Gate-house tower, where a singular 
 spectacle awaited them. The Swiss Deputies, and their escort, 
 still remained standing fast and firm on the vtery spot where 
 Hagenbach had proposed to assail them. A few of the late 
 Governor's sbldiers, disarmed, and cowering from the rage of a 
 multitude of the citizens, who now filled the streets, stood with 
 downcast looks behind the phalanx of the mountaineers, as 
 their safest place of retreat. But this was not all. 
 
 The cars, so lately placed to obstruct the passage of the 
 street, were now joined together, and served to support a plat- 
 form, or scaffold, which had been hastily constructed of planks. 
 On this was placed a chair, in which sat a taillmaii with his 
 head, neck, and shoulders bare, the irest of his body clothed in 
 bright armor. His countena!nce was as pale as death, yet young 
 Philipson recognized the, hard-hearted Governor, Sir Archibald 
 de Hagenbach. He appeared to be bound to the chair. On 
 his right, and close beside him, stood the Priest of Saint Paul's, 
 muttering prayers, withhisbreyiaryin his hand ; while, on his 
 left, and somewhat behind thfe captive, appeared a tall man, 
 attired in red, and leaning'with both hands on the naked sword, 
 which has been described on a former occasion. The instant that 
 Arnold Biederman appeared, and before the Landamman could 
 open his lips to demand the meaning of what he- saw, the priest 
 drew back, the executioner stepped forward the sword. was brand 
 ished, the blow was struck, and the victim's head roiled on the 
 scaiifold. A general acclamation and clapping of hands, like that 
 by which a crowded theatre approves of some well-graced per- 
 former, followed this feat of dexterity.' While the headless 
 corpse shot streams from the arteries, which were drunk 
 up by the sawdust that strewed the scafiold. the executioner 
 gracefully presented himself alternately at the four corners of the 
 
l84 ANNE OF GEIERSTRIN. 
 
 Stage, modestly bowing, as the multitude him greeted with cheers 
 of approbation. 
 
 " Nobles, knights, gentlemen of freeborn blood, and good 
 citizens,'' he said, "' who have assisted at this act of high justice, 
 I pray you to bear me witness that this judgment hath been 
 executed after the form of the sentence, at one blow, and with- 
 out stroke missed or repeated." 
 
 The afcclamations were reiterated, 
 
 " Long live our Scharfgerichter Steinernherz, and many a 
 tyrant may he do his duty on ! " 
 
 "Noble :fripnds," said the executioner, with the deepest obei- 
 sance, " I have yet another word to say, and it must be a proud 
 one. — God be gracious to the soul of this good and noble knight, 
 Sir Archibald de Hagenbach. He was the patroR of my youth, 
 and my guide to the path of. honor. Eight ^teps have I made 
 toward freedorn and nobility on the heads of freely born 
 knights and nobles, who have fallen by his authority and 
 command ; and the ninth, by which I have attained it, is upon 
 his own, in grateful memory of which I will expeiid this purse 
 of gold, which but an hour since he bestowed on rae, in masses 
 for his soul. Gentlemen, noble friends, and now my equals. La 
 Ferette has lost a nobleman, and gained one. Our Lady be 
 gracious to the departed knight. Sir Archibald de Hagenbach, 
 and bless and prosper the progress of Stephen Steinernherz 
 von Blut-sacker, now free and noble of right ! "* 
 
 With that he took the feather out of the cap of the deceased, 
 which, soiled with the Wood of the wearer, lay near his body 
 upon the scaffold, and, putting it into his own official bonnet, 
 received the homage of the crowd in loud huzzas, which were 
 partly in earnest, partly in ridicule of such an unusual trans- 
 formation. 
 
 Arnold Biederman at length, found breath, which the ex- 
 tremity of surprise had at first denied him. Indeed, the whole 
 execution had passed much too rapidly for the possibility of his 
 interference, 
 
 " Who has dared to act this tragedy ? " he said indignantly ; 
 " and by what right has it taken place ? " 
 
 A cavalier, richly dressed in blue, replied to the question — 
 
 "The free citizens of Bile have acted for, themselves, as the 
 fathers of Swiss liberty set them an example ; and the tyrant,, 
 De Hagenbach, has fallen by the same rightwhich put to death. 
 the tyrant Geysler. We bore with him till his cup was brim- 
 ming Over, and then we bore no longer." 
 
 * Note C. Public executioner. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 185 
 
 " I said not but that he deserved death," replied the Landam- 
 man ; " but for your own sake and for ours, you should have 
 forborne hira till the Duke's pleasure was known." 
 
 " What tell you us of the Duke ? " answered Laurenz Neip- 
 perg, the same blue cavalier whom Arthur had seen at the 
 secret rendezvous of the Balese youth, in company with 
 Rudolph, — •' Why talk you of Burgundy to us, who are none 
 of his subjects ? The Emperor, our only rightful lord, had no 
 title to pawn the town and fortifications of La Ferette, being 
 as it is a dependency of Bale, to the prejudice of our free city. 
 He might have pledged the revenue indeed ; and supposing 
 him to have done so the debt has been pjiid twice over by 
 the exactions levied by yonder oppressor, who has nOvif received 
 his due. But pass on, Landamman of Unterwalden. If our 
 actions displease you, abjure them at the footstool of the Duke 
 of Burgundy ; but, in doing so, abjure the iriemory of William 
 Tell and Stauffacher, of Furst and ' Melchtal, the fathers of 
 Swiss freedom." 
 
 "You speak truth, " said the Landamman ; "but it is in an 
 ill-chosen and unhappy time. Patietice would have remedied 
 your evils, which none felt more deeply, or would have re- 
 dressed more willingly, than I. But oh, imprudent young man 
 you have thrown aside the modesty of your age, and the sub- 
 jection you owe to your elders. William Tell and his brethren 
 were men of' years and judgment, husbands and father.?, having 
 a right to be heard in council, and to be foremost in action. 
 Enough — I leave it with the fathers a.ncl senators of your own 
 city, to acknowledge or to reprove your actions. — ^But you, my 
 frieijds — you, Banneret of Berne — Vou,- Rudolph— above all, 
 you, Nicholas Bpnstetten, my comrade and my. friend, why did 
 you not take this miserable man under your protection ? The 
 action would have shown Burgundy that we were slandered 
 by those who have declared us desirous of seeking a quarrel 
 with him, or of inciting his subjects to revolt. Now, all these 
 prejudices will be confirmed itl the minds of men naturally 
 more tenacious of evil impressions than of those which are 
 favorable." ' , 
 
 "As I live by bread, good gossip and neighbor, " answered 
 Nicholas Bonstetten, "I thought to obey your injunctions to a 
 tittle ; so much so, that I once thought of breaking in and pro- 
 tecting the man, when Rudolph Doiinerhugel reminded me that 
 your last orders were, to stand firm, and let the men of Bdle 
 answer for their own actions ; and surely, said I to myself, my 
 gossip Arnold knows better than all of us what is fitting to be 
 done." 
 
i86 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " AJi, Rudolph, RvidoJph,".sa|d,the Landamman, looking on 
 him with a displeased cpuntenance, " wert thou not ashamed 
 thus to deceive ah old man ? " 
 
 " To say I deceived him is a hard charge ; but from you, 
 Landamman," answered the Bernese, with his usual deference, 
 " I can bear anything. I will only say, that, being a member 
 of this embassy, I am obliged to think, and to give rny opinion 
 as such, especially when he is not present who is wise enough to 
 lead and direct us all." 
 
 " Thy words are always fair, Rudolph," replied Arnold Bieder- 
 man, " and I trust so is thy meaning. Yet there are times 
 when I somewhat doubt it. — But let disputes pass, and let me 
 have your advice, my friends ; and for that purpose go we where 
 it may best profit us, even to the Church, where we will first 
 return our thanks for our deliverance from assassir^ation, and then 
 hold counsel what next is to be done. " , 
 
 The Landamman led the way, accprdingly, to the church of 
 St. Paiil's, while his companions and associates followed in their 
 order. This gave Rudolph, who, as youngest, suffered the others 
 to precede him, an opportunity to beckon to him the Landam- 
 man's eldest son, Rudiger, and whispered tofhim to get rid of the 
 two English niprchants, 
 
 " Away with them, my dear Rudiger, by fair, means, if pos- 
 sible,; but away with them directly. Thy father is besotted with 
 these two English pedlers, and will listen to no other counsel •; 
 and fhou and I know, dearest Rudiger, that such men as these 
 are unfit to give laws to free-born Switzers. Get the trumpery 
 they have been robbed of, or as much of it as is extant, together 
 as fast as thou canst, and send them a-traveling in Heaven's 
 name." 
 
 Rudiger nodded intelligently, and went to offer his services. to 
 expedite the departure of the elder Philipson. He, found the 
 sagacious merchant as desirous tp escape from the scene of con- 
 fusion now presented in the town, as the young Swiss could be 
 to urge his departure. He only waited to recover the casket of 
 which De Hagenbach had possessed himself, and Rudiger Bied- 
 erman set on foot a strict search after it, which was the more 
 likely to be successful, that the simplicity of the Swiss prevented 
 them from setting ^the true vakie upon its contents. A strict 
 and hasty search was immediately instituted, both on the person 
 of the dead De Ha-genbach, on which , the. precious packet was 
 not|to be found, and on all who had approached him at his exe- 
 cution, or were supposed to enjoy his confidence. 
 
 Young Arthur Philipson would gladly have availed himself 
 of a few moments to bid farewell to Anne of Geierstein. But 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 187 
 
 .t!^^,^''ey w^inpl.e ,was no longer sejen in the ranks of the Switzers, 
 and it was reasonable to think, that, in the confusion which 
 followed the execution of De Hagenbach, and the retreat of the 
 leaders of the little battalion, she had inadg her escape into 
 some of the adjacent houses, while the soldiers around her, no 
 longer restrained by the pre;sence of their chiefs, had dispersed, 
 some to search for the goods of which the Englishmen had been 
 despoiled, others dputjtle§s to mingle with and join in the re- 
 joicings of the victorious youth of B^le,, and of those burgher^ 
 of La Ferette by whom the fortifications of the town had been 
 so gently surrendered. 
 
 The cry amongst them was universal, that Breisaoh, so long 
 considered as the curb of the Swiss confederates, and the bar- 
 rier against their commerce, should heticefprth be garrisoned, 
 as their prptection against tlie encroachmenis ancl exactions of 
 the Duke of Burgundy and his officers. The whole 'tqwn was 
 ,in a wild but joyful jubilee, while the citizens yied with each 
 other in offering to tne Swiss eyery species of refreshment, anfl 
 the youths who attended upon the mission hurried gayly, and in 
 triumph, to profit by the circumstances, which had so unexpect- 
 edly converted the ambuscade so treacherously laid for them, 
 into a genial and joyous reception. 
 
 Amid this scene of confusion, it was impossible for Arthur 
 to quit his father, even to satisfy the feelings which induced 
 him to wish for a few moments at his own disposal. Sad, 
 thoughtful, and sorrowful, amid the general joy, he remained 
 with the parent whom he had so niuch reason to love and 
 honor, to assist him in securing and placing oh their mule the 
 various packages and bales which the honest Switzers had re- 
 covered after the death of De Hagenbach, and which they 
 emulated each other in bringing tp their rightful owner ; whilp 
 they were with difficulty prevailed on to accept the guerdon 
 which the Englishman, from the means which he had still left 
 upon his person, was disposed not 'merely to offer,.but to force 
 upon the restorers of his property,' and which, in their rufje and 
 simple ideas, seemed greatly to exceed the value of what they 
 had recovered for him. 
 
 This scene had scarcely lasted ten or fifteen minutes, when 
 Rudolph Do-nnerhugel approached the elder Philipson, and in 
 a tone of greai courtesy invited him to join the council of the 
 Chiefs of the Embassy o,f the Swiss Cantons, who, he said, were 
 desirous of haying the advantage of his. experience upon some 
 important questions respecting.their conduct otj these unexpect- 
 jecl occurrences. . . 
 
 " See to our a;ffairS, Arthur, and stir not from the spot 
 
l88 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 on which I leave you," said Philipson to his son. " Look espe- 
 cially after the sealed packet of which I was so infamously and 
 illegally robbed ; its recovery is of the utmost consequence." 
 
 So speaking, he instantly prepared himself to attend the 
 Bernese, who, in confidential manner, whispered, as he went 
 arm-and-arm with him toward the Church of St. Paul's — 
 
 " I think a man of your wisdom will scarce advise us to trust 
 ourselves to the mood of the Duke of Burgundy, when he has 
 received such an injury as the loss of this fortress, and the 
 execution of his officer. You, at least, would be too judicious 
 to afford us any further the advantage of your company and 
 society, since to do so would be wilfully to engage in our ship- 
 wreck." * 
 
 " I will give my best advice," answered Philipson, " when I 
 shall be more particularly acquainted with the circumstances 
 under which it is asked of me." 
 
 Rudplph muttered an oath, or angry exclamation, and led 
 Philipson to the church without further argument. 
 
 In a small chapel adjoining to the church, and dedicated to 
 St. Magnus the Martyr, the four deputies were assembled in 
 close conclave around the shrine in which the sainted hero stood, 
 armed as when he lived. The Priest of St. Paul's was also 
 presetit, and seemed to interest hirtiself deeply in the debate 
 ■which was taking place. When Philipson entered, all were for 
 a moment silent, until the Landaihrrian addressed him thus : — 
 " Seignor Philipson, we esteem you a man far traveled, well 
 versed in the manners of foreign lands, and acquainted with 
 the conditions of this Duke Charles of Burgundy ; you are there- 
 fore fit to a,dvise us in a matter of great weight. You know 
 with what anxiety we go on this mission for peace with the 
 Duke ; you also know what has this day happened, which may 
 probably be represented to Charles in the worst colors ; — 
 would you advise us, in such a case, to proceed to the Duke's 
 pTfesence, with the odium of this action attached to us ; or 
 should we do better to return home, and .prepare for war with 
 Burgundy ? " 
 
 " How do your own opinions stand on the subject ? " said 
 the cautious Englishman. 
 
 " We are divided," answered the Banneret of Berne. — " I 
 have borne the banner of Berne against her foes for thirty years ; 
 I am more willing to carry it against the lances of the knights 
 of Hainault and Lorraine, than to undergo the rude treatment 
 which we must look to meet at the footstool of the Duke." 
 
 " We put our heads in the lion's mouth if we go forwar(^" 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 189 
 
 said Zimmerman of Soleure : — " my opinion is, that we draw 
 back." 
 
 " I would not advise retreat," said Rudolph Donnerhugel, 
 " were my life alone concerned : but the Landamman of Unter- 
 walden is the father of the United Cantons, and it would be 
 . parricide if I consented to put his life in peril. My advice is, 
 that we return, and that the Confederacy stand on their 
 defence." 
 
 ~ " My opinion is different," said Arnold Biederman ; " nor 
 will I forgive any man, who, whether in sincere or feigned 
 friendship, places my poor life in the scale with the advantage, 
 of the Cantons. If we go forward, we risk our heads — be it 
 so. But if we turn back we involve our ^country in war with a 
 power of the first magnitude in Europe. , Worthy citizens ! you 
 are brave in fight, — show your fortitude as boldly now ; and 
 let us not hesitate to incur such personal danger as may attend 
 ourselves, if by doing so we can gain a chance of peace for our 
 country." 
 
 " I think and vote with my neighbor and gossip, Arnold 
 Beiderman," said the laconic deputy from Schwytz. 
 
 "You hear how we are divided in opinion," said the Lan- 
 damman to Philipson ; " What is your opinion ? " 
 
 " I would first ask of you," said the Englishman, what has 
 been your part in the storming of a town occupied by the 
 Dukq's. forces, and putting to death his Governor ? " 
 
 " So help me, Heaven ! " said the Landamman, " as I knew 
 not of any purpose of storming the town until it unexpectedly 
 took place." 
 , " And for the execution of De Hagenbach," said the Black 
 " Priest, "I swear to you, stranger, \>v my holy order, that it took 
 place under the direction of a competent court, whose sentence 
 Charles of Bujgundy himself is bound to respect, and' whose 
 proceedings the Deputies of flie Swiss mission could neither 
 have advanced nor retarded." 
 
 " If such be the case, and if you, can really prove yourselves 
 free, of these proceedings," answered Philipson, " which must 
 needs be highly resented by the Duke of Burgundy, I would 
 advise you by all means to proceed upon your journey ; with 
 the certainty th^t you will obtain from that prince a just and 
 impartial hearing, and it may be a favorable answer. I know 
 Charles of Burgundy ; I may even say that, our different ranks 
 and walks of life considered, I know him well. , He will be 
 deeply incensed by the first tidings of what has here chariced, 
 which he will no doubt interpret to your disfavor. But if, in 
 -the course of investigation, you are able to clear yourselves of 
 
igo ANNE OF GEIERSTEtN. 
 
 these foul imputations, a sense of Iiis own injustice may per- 
 haps turn the, balance in your favor ; and in that case, he will 
 rush from the excess of censure into that of indblgence. But 
 your cause must be firmly stated to the Diike, by some 'tongue 
 better acquainted with the language of courts than yours ; and 
 such a friendly interpreter might I have proved to you, had I 
 not been plundered of the valuable packet which I bore with 
 me in order to present to the Duke, and in testimony of my 
 commission to him." 
 
 " A paltry fetch," whispeted Donnerhugel to the Banneret, 
 "that the tradeb may obtain from us satisfaction for the goods 
 of which he has been plundered." 
 
 The Landamman himself Was perhaps for a itibraent of the 
 same opinion. 
 
 " Merchant," he said, "we hold ourselves 'bound to Wake 
 good to you, — that is, if our substance can effect it, — whatever 
 loss you may have sustained, triisting to our protection." 
 
 "Ay, that we will," said the old man of Schwytz, "should 
 it cost us twenty zechins to make il: good." 
 
 " To your guarantee of immunity I can have no claim," 
 said Philipson, " seeing I parted company \Vith \'ou before I 
 sustained any loss. And I regret the loss, not so much for its 
 value, although that is greater than you tnay fancy ; but chiefly 
 betause, that the contents of the casket I bore being a tokeii 
 betwixt a persoa of considerable importance and the Duke of 
 Burgundv, I Shall not, I fear, now.that I am deprived of them, 
 receive from his gtEice that credence which I desiire, both for 
 my own sake and yours. Without them, and speaking Only in 
 the person of a private traveler, I mdy not take lipion me as I 
 might have done, when using the- names of the persons ^hose 
 mandates I carried." 
 
 " This important packet," said the Landamman, " shall be 
 rtiost rigorously sought for, and carefully re-delivered to thee. 
 For ourselves, not a Swiss of us knows the value of its con- 
 tents ; so that, if they at-e iri the hands of any of our men, they 
 ■will be returned of course as bailbles, upon which they set no 
 lvalue." 
 
 As he spoke, fhere was a knocking at the door of the 
 Chapel. . Rudolph, who stood nearest to if, having held some 
 communication with those without, observed with a smile, 
 which iie instantly repressed, lest it had given offence to Ar- 
 nold Biederman, — " It is Sigisrtiurid, the good youth — Shall I 
 admit him to our council ? " — 
 
 " To what purpose, poor simple lad ? " said his father, with a 
 sorrowful smile. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 15 1 
 
 " Yet let me undo the door," said Philipson ; " he is anxious 
 to enter, and perhaps he brings news. I have observed, Lan- 
 damman, that the young man, though with slowness of ideas 
 and expression, is -strong in his principles, and sometimes 
 happy in his conceptions." 
 
 He admitted Sigismund accordingly ; while Arnold Bieder- 
 man felt,, on the one hand, the soothing compliment which 
 Philipson had paid- to a boy, certainly the dullest of his family, 
 and, on the other, feared some publife display of his son's in- ' 
 firmity, or lack of understanding. Sigismund, however, seemed 
 all confidence ; and he certainly had reason to be so, since, as 
 the shortest mode of explanation, he presented to Philipson 
 the neqklace of diamonds, with the casket in which it had been 
 deposited. 
 
 . " This pretty thing is yours," he said. " I understand so 
 much from your son Arthur, who tells me you would be glad to 
 have it again." 
 
 " Most cordially do I thank you," said ihe merchant. "The 
 necklace is certainly mine ; that is, the packet of which it 
 formed the contents was under my charge ; and it is at this 
 monxent of greater additional value to me than even its actual 
 worth, since it serves as my pledge and token for the perform- 
 ance of an important mission. — And how, my young friend, "fee 
 continued, addressing Sigismund, " have you been so fortunate 
 as to recover what we have sought for hitherto in vain ? Let 
 me return my best acknowledgments ; and do not think me over 
 curious if I ask how it reached you ">. " 
 
 " For that matter," said Sigismund, " the story is soon told. 
 I had planted myself as near the scaffold as I could, having 
 never beheld an execution before ; and I observed the exe- 
 cutioner, who I thought did his duty very cleverly, just in the 
 moment that he spread a cloth over the body of De Hagenbacii, 
 snatch something from the dead man's bosom, and huddle it 
 hastily into his own ; so, when the rumor arose, that an article 
 of value was amissing, I hurried in quest of the fellow. I found 
 he had bespoke masses to the extent of a hundred crowns at the 
 high altar of St, Paul's ; and I traced him to the tavern of the 
 village, where some ill-looking men were joyously drinking to 
 him as a free citizen and a nobleman. So I stepped In amongst 
 them with my partisan, and demanded of his lordship either to 
 surrender to me what he had thus possessed hiiiiself of, or to 
 try the weight of the weapon I carried. His lordship, my Lord 
 Hangman, hesitated, and was about to make a brawl. But I 
 was something peremptory, and so he judged it best to give 
 roe the parcel, which I trust yoij, Seignor Philipson, will find 
 
ig2 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 safe and entire as it was taken from you. And-^and---I left 
 them to conclude their festivities — and that is the whole of the 
 story." 
 
 " Thou art a brave lad," said Philipson ; " and with a heart 
 always right, the head can seldom be far wrong; But the 
 Church shall not lose its dues ; and I take it on myself, ere I 
 leave La Ferette, to pay for the masses which the man had 
 ordered for the safe of De Hagenbach's soul, snatchedfrom 
 thei world so unexpectedly." 
 
 'Sigismund was about to reply; but Philipson, feared he 
 might bring out some foolery to diminish the sense which his 
 father had so joyously entertained of his late conduct, imme- 
 diately added, " Hie away, my good youth, and give to my son 
 Arthur this precious casket." 
 
 With simple exultation at receiving applause to which he was 
 little accustomed, Sigismund took his leave, and the' council' 
 were once more left to their own privacy. 
 
 ' There was a moment's silence ; for the Landamman could 
 not overcome the feehng of exquisite pleasure at the sagacity 
 which poor Sigismund, whose general conduct warranted no such 
 expectations, had displayed on the present occasion. It was 
 not, however!, a feeling to which circumstances permitted him 
 to give vent,, and he reserved it for his own secret enjoymewt, 
 as a solace to the anxiety which he had' hitherto entertained 
 concerning the limited intellect' of this simple-minded young 
 man. When he spoke, it was to Philipson, with the usual 
 candor and manliness of his character. ■ - 
 
 '■■'Seignor Philipson," hesaid, "we will hold you bound by 
 no offer which you made while these glittering matters were 
 out of your possession ; because a man may often think, that 
 if he were in such and such a situation, he would be able to 
 achieve certain ends, which, that position being attained, he 
 may find himself unable to accomplish. But I now ask you, 
 whether, having thus fortunately and unexpectedly regained 
 possession of what you say will give you certain credence with 
 the Duke of Burgundy, you conceive )'durself entitled to me- 
 diate with him on our behalf, as yoii formerly proposed?" 
 
 All bent forward to hear the merchant's answer. ' ' 
 
 " Landamman," he replied, " I never spoke the word in 
 difficulty which I was not ready to redeem when that difficulty' 
 was removed. You sav, and I believe, that you had no concern 
 with this storming of La Ferette. You say also, that the life 
 of De Hagenbach whs takeii by a judicature over wliich 3'ou 
 had no control, and exercised none — let a protocol be drawn 
 up, averring these circumstances, and, as far as possible, proVA' 
 
ANNE OF GEIEKSTEIN. 
 
 193 
 
 ingthem. Intrust it to me,. — under seal if you will, — and if 
 ..such points be-established, I will pledge my word as a — as a 
 — as an honest man and a true-born Englishman, that the 
 Duke of Burgundy will neither detain nor offer you any per- 
 sonal injury. I also hope to show to Charles strong and 
 weighty reasons why a league of friendship betwixt Burgundy 
 and the United Cantons of Helvetia is, on his grace's part, a 
 wise and generous measure. But it is possible I may fail in 
 this last point; and if I do, I shall deeply grieve for it. In 
 warranting your safe passage to the Duke's court, and your 
 safe return from it to your own countr)', I think I cannot fail. 
 If I do, my own life, and that of my beloved and only child, 
 shall pay the ransom for my excess of confidence in the Duke's 
 justice and honor." -T 
 
 The other deputies stood silent, and looked on the Landam- 
 man;-.but Rudolph Donnerhugel spoke. 
 
 "Are we then to trust our own lives, and, what is still 
 dearer to us, that of our honored associate, Arnold Biederman, 
 on the simple word of a foreign trader.' We all know the 
 temper of the Duke, and how vindictively and relentlessly :he 
 has ever felt toward our country and its interests. Methinks 
 this English merchant should express the nature of his interest 
 at the coujrt of Burgundy more plainly, if he expects us to plaqe 
 such implicit reliance in it." 
 
 " That, Seignor Rudolph Donnerhugel,'!, replied the; mer- 
 chant, " I find myself not at liberty to do. I pry not into your 
 secrets, whether they belong to you as a body or as individuals. 
 My own are sacred. If I consulted my own safety merely, I 
 should act most wisely to part company with you here. But 
 the object of your mission is peace ; and your sudden return, 
 after what has chanced at La Ferette, will make war inevitable. 
 I think I can assure you of a safe and free audience from the 
 Duke, and I am willing, for the cjiance of securing the peace 
 of Christendom, to encounter any personal peril which may 
 attach to myself." 
 
 "Say no more, worthy Philipson," said the Landamman ; 
 " thy good faith is' undoubted on our part, and ill luck is his 
 who cannot read it written on thy manly forehead. We go 
 forward, then, prepared to risk our own safety at the hand of, a 
 despotic prince, rather than leave undischarged the_ mission 
 which our country has intrusted us with. He is but half a 
 brave man who will risk his life only in the field of battle. 
 There are other dangers, to front whichris equally honorable ; 
 and since the weal of Switzerland demands that we should efi- 
 counter them, not one of us will hesitate to take the risk." , 
 
1^4 ANNE OF GEIEkSTEIN. 
 
 The other members of the mission bowed in assent, and the 
 conclave broke up to prepare for their further entrance into 
 Burgundy. 
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. 
 
 Upon the mountain's heathery side, 
 
 The day's last lustre shone, 
 And rich with many a radiant hue, 
 
 Gleam'd gayly on the Rhone. 
 
 SOUTHEY. 
 
 The English merchant was now much consulted by the Swiss 
 Commissioners in all their motions. He exhorted them to pro- 
 ceed with all despatch on their journey, so as to carry to the 
 Duke their own account of the affair of Breisach, and thus 
 aiKicipate all rumors less favorable to their conduct on the 
 occasion. For this purpose Philipson -recommended that the 
 Deputies, dismissing their escort, whose arms and numbers 
 might give umbrage and suspicion, while they were too few for 
 defence, should themselves proceed by rapid journeys on horse- 
 back toward Dijon, or wherever the Duke might chance to be 
 for the time. 
 
 This proposal was, however, formally resisted by the very 
 person who had hitherto been the most ductile of the party, 
 and the willing echo of the Landamman's pleasure. On the 
 present occasion, notwithstanding that Arnold Biederman de- 
 Glared the advice of Philipson excellent, Nicholas Bonstetten 
 stood in absolute and insurmountable opposition ; because, 
 having hitherto trusted to his own limbs for transporting him- 
 self to and fro on all occasions, he could by no means be per- 
 suaded to commit himself to the discretion of a horse; As he 
 was found obstinately positive on this subject, it was finally 
 determined that the two Englishmen should press forward on 
 their journey, with'such speed- as they might, and that the elder 
 of them should make the Duke acquainted with so much as to 
 the Capture of La Ferette, as he had himself witnessed of the 
 matter. The particulars which had attended the death of' De 
 Hagetibach, the Landamman assured him, would be sent to. 
 the Ehike by a person of confidence, whose attestation on the 
 subject could not be doubted. 
 
 This course was adopted, as Philipson expressed his confi- 
 dence of getting an early and private audience with his grade 
 of Burgundy. ■' 
 
AI^NE Of GErERSTEIN. 195 
 
 " My best intercession," he said, " you Have a good right to 
 reckon upon; and no one can bear more direct testimony than 
 1 can, to the ungovernable cruelty and rapacity of De Hagen- 
 bach, of which I had so nearly; been the victim. B^t of his 
 trial and execution, I neither know nor can tell anything ; and 
 as Duke Charles is sure to demand why execution was done 
 upon his officer without an appeal to his own tribunal, it will be 
 well that you either provide me with such facts as you have to 
 state, or send forward, at least, as speedily as possible, the 
 evidence which you have to lay before him on that mo^t weighty 
 branch of the subject." 
 
 The proposal of the merchant created some visible embar- 
 rassment on the countenance of the- Swiss, and it Was with 
 obvious hesitation that Arnold Biederman,' having led him 
 aside, addressed him in a whisper — 
 
 " My good friend," he said, " mysteries are in general like 
 the hateful mists which disfigure the noblest features of nature ; 
 yet, like mists, they will sometimes intervene when we most 
 desire their absence — when we most desire to be plain and 
 explicit. The manner of De Hagenbach's death, you saw — we 
 will take care that the Duke is informed of the authority by 
 which it was inflicted. This isi all that I can at present tell 
 you on the subject ; and let me add, that the less you speak of 
 it with any one, you will be the more likely to escape incon- 
 venience." 
 
 " Worthy Landamman," said the Englishman, " I am labo 
 by nature, and from the habits of my 'country, a Ihater of 
 mysteries. Yet, such is my firm confidence in your truth and 
 honor, that you shall be my guide in these dark and secret 
 transactions, even as amongst the mists and precipices of your 
 native land, and I rest contented in either case to place un- 
 limited confidence in your sagacity. Let me only recommend 
 that your explanation with Charles be instant, as well as clear 
 and candid. Such being the case, I trust my poor interest with 
 the Duke may be reckoned for something in your favor. Here 
 then we part, but, as I trust, soon to meet again." 
 
 .The elder Philipson now rejoined his son, ^vhom he directed 
 to hire horses, together with a guide, to conduct them with all 
 speed to the presence of the Duke of Burgundy. By various 
 inquiries in the town, and especially among the soldiers of the 
 slain De Hagenbach, they at length learned that Charles had 
 been of late occupied in taking possession of Lorraine,, and, 
 being now suspicious of unfriendly dispositions /on the part of 
 the Emperor of Germany, as well as of Sigismund, Duke of 
 Austria, had drawn a considerable part of his army together 
 
ig6 AKiVE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 near Strassburg, in order to be 'prepared against any attempt 
 of these princes, or of the Free Imperial Cities, which might 
 interfere 'with his course of conquest. The Dulie of Burgundy, 
 at this period, weli deserved Iiis peculiar epithet of the Boiy, 
 since, surrounded by enemies, like one of the nobler animals of 
 the chase, he yet astounded, by his stern'and daring counte- 
 nance, not only the pririces and states we have -mentioned, but 
 even the King of FrancCi equally powerful, and far morepiaiiftic 
 than himself. ■ •«!« 
 
 ., To his cam J5, therefore^ the English travelers bent their way, 
 each full of such deep and melancholy reflection, as, perliaps, 
 prevented his bestowingi much attention on ■ the; other^s; state 
 of mind. They rode as men deeply immersed in their o»n 
 thoughts,, and with less intercourse than had been usual betwixt 
 them on their former journeys. The ; nobleness of the,elder 
 Philipson's nature, and his respectior the Landamman's probity, 
 joined with gratitude for his hospitality, had prevented hinl fii4)|m 
 separating his cause from that of the Swiss Deputies, nof did 
 he now repent this generosity in adhering to them. But whien 
 he recollected the nature and irhportance of the personal affairs . 
 which he himself had to despatch with a proud, imperious, and 
 irritable prince, he could not but regrfet the circumstances^ wh'ieh 
 had involved his own particular mission, of so much consequ^ee 
 to himself and his friends, with! that of persons likely to be so 
 highly obnoxious to the Duke as Arnold Biederman and bis 
 companions ; sand,; however grateful forthe liospitality of Geier- 
 stein, he regretted, nevertheless, the circumstances which had 
 obliged him to accept of it. - .1 
 
 The thoughts of Arthur were; no less anxious. He; foujid 
 himself anew separated froraithe object to which his thoughts 
 were, almost against his own will, constantly returning. And 
 this second separation had taked place after he had incurred an 
 additional load of gratitude, and found new, as well as more 
 mysterious food for his ardent imagination. How was'he to rec- 
 oncile the character and attributes of Anne of Geierstein> whom 
 he had known so gentle, candid, pure, and simple,' with those! of 
 the daughter of a sage, and of an elementary spirit, to )whom 
 night was as day, and an. impervious dungeon the same as the 
 open portico of a temple ? Could they be identified as this same 
 being? or, while strictly alike in shape and lineament, was tlie 
 one a tenant of the earth, the other only a phantom, permitted 
 to show itself among those of a nature in which she didubt 
 partake? Above all, must he never see: her more, or receive 
 fromher own lips an explanation pf the mysteries which were 
 so awfully entwined with his recollections of her ? Such were 
 
ANNE OF GEIEJRSTEIN. 197 
 
 tfije questions which occupied the miud of the younger traveler, 
 and prevented him from interrupting, or even observing, the 
 reverie in which his father was plunged. 
 
 Had either of the; travelers been disposed to derive amuse- 
 ment from the country through which their road lay, the vicinity 
 of the Rhine was well qualified to afford it. The ground on the 
 left bank of that noble river is indeed rather flat and tame ; and ■■ 
 the mountains of Alsace, a ridge of which sweeps along its 
 course, dd not approach so near as greatly to vary the level sur- 
 face of the valley which divides them from its shores. But the 
 broad stream itself, hurrying forward with dizzy rapidity, and 
 rushing around the islets by which its course is interrupted, is 
 one of the most majestic spectacles in nature. The right bank 
 is dignified at once, and- adornedj by the numerous eminences 
 CQvered with wood, and interspersed with valleys, which consti- 
 tute the district so. well known by the name of the Black Forest, 
 to which superstition attached so many terrors, and credulity 
 such a variety of legends. Terrors, indeed, it had, of- a real and 
 existing character. ;The old castles, seen from time to time on. 
 the banks of the river itself, or on the ravines and large brooks, 
 which flow into it, were then no picturesque ruins, rendered in- 
 teresting- by the stories whiicli were told about their former in- 
 habitants, but constituted the real and apparently impregnable 
 strongholds of that Robber-chivalry whom we have already fre- 
 quently mentioned, and of whom, since Goethe, an author born 
 to arouse the, ishambering fame of his country; has dramatized 
 the. story of Goetz of Berlichingen,* we have had so many spiritr 
 stirring tales. The danger attending the vicinity of these fort- 
 resses was only known on the right, or German. bank of the 
 Rhine, for the breadth and depth of that noble stream effectu- 
 ally prevented "any foray of their inhabitants from reaching 
 Alsace. The former was in possession of the Cities or Free 
 towns. of the Empire, and thus the feudal tyranny of the German 
 lords was chiefly exerted at the expense of their own country- 
 men, who:, irritated and exhausted with their rapine and oppres- 
 sion, were compelled to erect barriers against it, of a nature as 
 interesting and extraordinary, as were the wrongs from which 
 they endeavored to, protect themselves. 
 
 , But the left bank of the river, over great part of which 
 Charles of Burgundy exercised his authority, under various 
 chardcters, was under the .regular protection of the ordinary 
 magistrates, who were supported in the discharge of their duty 
 by large bands oi mercenary soldiers; Tiiese were maintained 
 
 '* [Tliis Drama, by Goethe, was translated by Sir Walter Scott, jnd waS 
 pne of his earliest publications.] 
 
IC,3 ANNE OF GEIERSTfi'IN. 
 
 hy Charles out of his private revenue ; he, as well as his rival 
 -Louis, and other princes of the period, having discovered; that 
 the feudal system gave an inconvenient degree of independence 
 to their vasaals, and thinking, of course, that it was better to 
 substitute in its place a standing army, consisting of free com- 
 panies, or soldiers by profession. Italy furnished most of these 
 bands, which composed the strength of Charles's army, at least 
 the part of it in which he most trusted. 
 
 Our travelers, therefore,, pursued their way by the banks of 
 the river, in as great a degree of security as could- well be 
 enjoyed in that violent and distracted time, until at length 
 the father, after having eyed for some time the person whom 
 Arthur had hired to be their guide, suddenly asked of his son 
 who or what the man was. Arthur replied that he had been 
 too eager to get a parson who knew the road, and was willing 
 to show it, to be very particular in inquiring into his station 
 or occupation ; but that he thought, from the man's appearance, 
 he must be one of those itinerant ecclesiastics, who travel 
 through the country with relics, pardons, and other religious 
 trinkets, and were in general but slightly • respected, excepting 
 by the lower orders, on whom these vendors of superstitious- 
 wares were often accused of practicing gross deceptions. 
 
 The man's appearance was rather that of a lay devotee, or 
 palmer, bound on his pilgrimage to different shrines, -than of a 
 mendicant friar, or questionary. He wore the hatj scrip, staff, 
 and coarse dalmatic, somewhat like the military cloak of the 
 modern hussar, which were used by such persons on their . 
 religious peregrinations. Saint Peter's keys, rudely shaped out 
 of some scarlet rag of cloth, appeared on the back of his mantle, 
 placed, as' heralds say, saltire-wise. This devotee seemed a 
 man of fifty and upward, well made, and stout, for his age, 
 with a cast of countenance which, though not positively ugly, 
 was far from being well-favored; There was shrewdness, and 
 an alert expression in his eye and actions, which made some 
 occasional contrast with the sanctimonious demeanor of the 
 character he now bore. This difference betwixt his dress and 
 physiognomy was by no means uncommon among persons of his 
 description, many of whom embraced this mode of life, rather 
 to indulge roving and idle habits, than from ftny religious call. 
 
 " Who art thou, good fellow ? " said the elder Philipson ; 
 ''and by what name am I t^ call thee while we are fellow- 
 travelers?" 
 
 " Bartholomew, sir," said the man ; "Brother Bartholomew' 
 ^^I might say Bartholomseus, but . it do^ not become a 
 
/4iWV2 OF 6MTEkSTiFJt^. 199 
 
 poor lay brother like me to aspire to the honor of a learned 
 termination." 
 
 " And whither does thy journey tend, good Brother Bap 
 tholomew ? " 
 
 " In whichever direction your worship chooses to travel, and 
 to require my services as guide," answered the Palmer ; " al- 
 ways premising, you allow me leisure for my devotions at such 
 holy stations as we pass on our route." 
 
 " That is, thine own journey hath no professed or pressing 
 object or end? " said the Englishman. 
 
 " None, as 3'our worship says, peculiar,'' said the itinerant ; 
 " or I might rather sky, that my journey, good sir, embraces 
 SO many objects, that it is matter of indifference to me which 
 of them I accomplish first. My vow binds me for four years 
 to travel from one shrine, or holy place, to another ; but I atn 
 not directly tied to ^visit them by any precise rule of rotation." 
 
 " That is to say, thy vow of pilgrimage does not prevent 
 thee from hiring thyself to wait upon travelers as their guide," 
 replied Philipson. 
 
 "If lean unite the devotion I owe to the blessed saints 
 whose shrines I visit, with a ser\'ice rendered to a wandering 
 fellow-creature who desires to be directed upon his journey, I 
 do maintain," replied Bartholomew, "that the objects are 
 easily to be reconciled to each other." 
 
 " Especially as a little worldly profit may tend to cement the 
 two duties together, if otherwise incompatible," said Philipson. 
 
 " It pleases your honor to say so," replied the pilgrim ; " but 
 you yourself may, if you will, derive from my good company 
 something more than the mere knowledge of the road in which 
 you propose to travel. I can make your journey more edifying 
 by legends of the blessed saints whose holy relics Ihave visited, 
 and pleasing, by the story of the wonderful things which 
 I have seen and heard in my travels. I can impart to you an 
 opportunity of providing yourself with his Holiness's pardon, 
 not only for the sins which you have committed, but also 
 granting you indulgence for future errors." 
 
 " These. things are highly available doubtless," replied the 
 merchant ; " but, good Bartholomew, when I desire to speak 
 of them, I apply to my 'father confessor, to whom I have^been 
 uniformly regular in committing the charge of my conscience, 
 and who must be, therefore, well acquainted wftlxmy state of 
 mind, and best' accustomed to prescribe what its case may 
 require." ' 
 
 " Neveirthelessy " Said Bartholomew^ " I trust your worship 
 is too religiOHS a man and too sound; a Catholic, to pass any 
 
200 ANNE OF GBIERSTEIN. 
 
 hallowed Station without endeavoring .to obtain soijie share of 
 the benefits which it is the means of dispensing to those whp 
 are ready and willing to deserve them. More Especially as all 
 men, of whatever trade and degree, hold respect to the holy saint 
 who patroniseth his own mystery ; so I hope you, being a mer- 
 chant, will not pass the Chapel of Our Lady of the Ferry with- 
 out making some fitting orison." ; . , 
 
 " Friend Bartholomew," said Philipson, " I have not heard 
 of the shrine which you.recommend to me ; and, as my business 
 is pressing, it were better worth my while to make a pilgrimage 
 hither on purpose to make mine homage at a fitter seasoti, than 
 to delay my journey at present. This, God willing, I .will not 
 fail to do, so that I may be held excused for delaying my rev- 
 erence till I can pay it more respectfully, and at greater 
 leisure." 
 
 " May it please you not to be wroth," said the guide, ," if I 
 say that your behavior in this matter is like that of a fool, 
 who, finding a treasure by the road-side, omits to put it in his 
 bosom and carry it along with him, proposing to return from a 
 distance on a future day, of express purpose to fetch it." 
 
 Philipson, something astonished at the man's pertinacity, 
 was about to answer hastily and angrily, but was prevented by 
 the arrival of three strangers, who rode hastily up from behind 
 them. 
 
 The foremost of these was a young female, most elegantly 
 attired, and mounted upon a Spanish jennet, which she reined 
 with singular grace and dexterity. She wore on her right hand 
 such a glove as that which was used to carry hawks, and had a 
 merlin perched upon it. Her head was covered with a montero 
 cap, and, as was frequently the custom at the period, she wore 
 on her face a kind of black silk visard, which, effectually con- 
 cealed her features. Notwithstanding this disguise, Arthur 
 Philipson's heart sprutig high at the appearance of these stran- 
 gers, for he was at once certain he recognized the matchless 
 form of the Swiss maiden, by whom his mind was so anxiously 
 occupied. Her attendants were a falconeEwith his hunting- 
 pole, and a female, both apparently her domestics. The elder 
 Philipson, who had no such accuracy of recollection as his son 
 manifested upon the occasion, saw in the fair stranger only 
 some dame or damsel of eminence engaged in the amusement 
 of hawking, and, in return to a brief salutation, merely asked 
 her, with suitable courtesy, as the case demanded, whether she 
 had spent the morning in good sport. i 
 
 " Indifferent,; go6d friend," said the lady^; " I dare not fly 
 my hawk so near the broad river, lest he should soar to the 
 
ANNE' OF GEIERSTEIN. 201 
 
 Other side, and so I might lose my companion. But I reckon 
 on finding better game when I have crossed to the other side 
 of the ferr)', which we are now approaching." 
 
 " Then your ladyship," said Bartholomew, " will hear mass 
 in Hans' Chapel, and pray for your success ? " . 
 
 '* I were a heathen to pass the holy place without doing so," 
 replied the damsel. 
 
 "That, noble damsel, touches the point we were btit no-.' 
 talking of," said the guide Bartholomew; "for know, fair mi:,- 
 tress, that I cannot persuade this worthy gentleman how deepl ■ 
 the success of his enterprise is dependent upon his obtaining 
 the blessing of Oul- Lady ofthe Ferry." 
 
 "The good man," said the young maiden, seriously, and 
 even severely, "must know little of the Rhine. I will explain 
 to the gentleman the propriety of following your advice." 
 
 She then rode.closeto young Philipson, and spoke in Swiss, 
 for she had ^itherto used the German language, " Do not star', 
 but hear me ! " and the voicq was 'that of Anne of Geierstein. 
 "Do not, I say, be surprised — or at least show not your wonder 
 — you are beset by dangers. On this' road, especially, your 
 busiiiess is known — your lives are laid in wait for. Cross over 
 the river at the Ferry of the Chapel, or Hans' P'erry, as it is 
 usually termed." 
 
 Here the guide drew so near to them that it was impossible 
 for her to continue the conversation without being overheard. 
 At that same moment a woodcock sprung; from some bushes, 
 and the young lady threw off her merlin iri pursuit. 
 
 " Sa ho — sa ho — wo ha ! " hollowed the falconer, in a note 
 which made the thicket ring again; and away he rode in pur- 
 suit. The elder Philipson and the guide himself followed th2 
 chase eagerly with their eyes, so attractive was the love of thai 
 brave sport to men of all ranks. But the voice of the maiden 
 was a lure, which would have summoned Arthur's attention 
 from matters more deeply interesting. 
 
 " Cross the Rhine," she again repeated, " at the Ferry to 
 Kirch-hoff, on theother side of the river. Take your lodging.'; 
 at the Golden Fleece, where you will find a guide to Strassburg. 
 I must stay here no longer." 
 
 . So saying, the damsel raised herself in her saddle, strucl^ 
 her horse lightly with the loose reins, and the mettled animal, 
 already impatient at her delay, and the eager burst of its com- 
 panions flew forward at such a pace, as if he had meant to 
 emulate the flight of the hawk, and of the prey he pursued. 
 The lady and her attendants soon vanished from the sight of 
 the travelers. '• ■ 
 
202 ANNE OF GEIBRSTBIN. 
 
 "A deep silence for some time ensued, during which Arthur 
 studied how to communicate the warning he had received, with- 
 out awakening the suspicions of their guide. 
 
 But the old man broke silence himself, saying to Bartholo- 
 mew, " put your horse into more motion, I pray you, and ride 
 onward a few yards ;I would have some private conference 
 with my son." 
 
 The guide obeyed, andj as if with the purpose of showing a 
 mind too profoundly occupied- by heavenly matters to admit' a 
 thought concerning those of this transitory world, he thundered 
 forth a hymn in praise of Saint, Wendelin the Shepherd, in a 
 strain so discordant, as startled every bird from every bush 
 by which they passed. There Was never a more unmelodious 
 melody, whether sacred or profane, than, that under protection 
 of which the elder Philipson thus, conferred with his son. 
 
 "Arthur," he; said, " I am much convinced that this howling 
 hypocritical vagrant has some plot upon us ; and I had well-nigh 
 determined, that the best m'bde t9 baffle, it would be to consult 
 my own opinion, and not his, as to our places of repose, and the 
 direction of our journey." 
 
 '■ Your judgement is correct, as usual," said his son. " I am 
 well convinced of yonder man's treachery from a whisper in 
 which that maiden informed me that we ought to take the road to 
 Strassburg by the eastern side of the river, 'and for that purpose 
 cross over to a place called Kirch-hoff, on the opposite bank." 
 
 " Do you advise this, Arthur ? " replied his father. 
 
 " I will pledge my life for the faith of this young person," 
 replied his son. 
 
 " What ! " said his father, " because she sits her palfrey fairly, 
 arid shows a faultless shape ? Such is the reasoning of a boy — 
 and yet my own old and. cautious. heart feels, inclined to trust 
 her. If our secret is known -in this land^ there are doubtless 
 many who may be disposed to think they, have an interest in 
 barring my access to the Duke of Burgundy, even by the most 
 violent means ; and well you know that I should on my side 
 hold my life equally cheap, could I discharge mine errand at 
 the price of laying it down. I tell thee, Arthur, that my mind 
 reproaches me for taking hitherto over little care of ensuring the 
 discharge of my commission, owing to the natural desire I had 
 to keep thee in my company. There now. lie before, us two 
 waysi bath perilous and uncertain, by which we may reach the 
 Duke's Gourt. We may folloyv this guide, and take the chance 
 of his fidelity, or we may adopt the hiiit.of )'-onder damsel-errant, 
 and, cross over to the other side of thei Rhine, and again repasS 
 the river at Strassburg. Both roads are perhaps equally perilousc 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 203 
 
 1 feel it my duty to diminish the risk of the miscarriage of my 
 commission by sending thee across to the right bank, whiie I 
 pursue my proposed course upon the left. Thus, if one of us be 
 intercepted, the other may escape, and the important commis- 
 sion whicli he bears may be duly executed." 
 
 " Alas ray father !" said Arthur, " How is it possible forme 
 to obey you, when by doing so I must leave you alone, to imcur 
 so many dangers, to struggle with so many difficulties, in which 
 my aid might be at least willing, though it could be only weak ? 
 Whatever befall us in- these delicate and dangerous circum- 
 stances, let us at least meet it in company." 
 
 " Arthur, my beloved son," said his father, " in parting from 
 thee I am splitting mine own heart in^ twain ; but- the same 
 duty which commands us to expose our bodies to death, as 
 peremptorily orders us not to spare our most tender affections. 
 We must part." 
 
 " Oh, then," replied his son eagerly, " let me at least prevail 
 in one point. Do thou, my father, cross the Rhine, and let me 
 prosecute the journey by the route originally proposed." 
 
 "And why, I pray you," answered the merchant, " should I 
 go one of these roads in preference to the other ?" 
 
 " Because," said Arthur eagerly, " I would warrant yonder 
 maiden's faith with my life." 
 
 " Again, young man t " said his father ; " and wherefore so 
 confidant in that young maiden's faith ? Is it merely from the 
 confidence which youth reposes in that which is fair and pleas- 
 ing, or have you had furtlier acquaintance with her than the late 
 brief conversation with her admitted ? " 
 
 " Can I give you an answer ? " — replied his son. " We 
 have, 'been long absent from lands of knights and ladies, and is 
 it not natural that we should give to those who remind us of 
 the honored ties of chivalry and gentle blood, the instinctive 
 credence which we refuse to such a poor wretch as this itiner- 
 ant mountebank, who gains his existence by cheating, with 
 false relics and forged legends, the poor peasants amongst 
 whom he .travels ? " 
 
 " It is a vain imagination, Arthur," said his father ; " not 
 unbefitting, indeed, an aspirant to the honors of chivalry, who 
 draws his ideas of life and its occurrences from the romances 
 of the minstrels, but too visionary for a youth who has seen, as 
 thou hast, how the business of this world is conducted. I telj 
 thee, and thou wilt learn to know I say truth, that around the 
 homely board of our host the Landamman, were ranged 
 truer tongues, and more faithful hearts, than the Cour pelinere 
 of a monarch has to boast. Alas ! the manly spirit of ancient 
 
204 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 faith and honor has fled even from the breast of kings and 
 knights, where, as John of France said, it ought to continue to 
 reside a constant inhabitant, if banished from all the rest of the 
 world." 
 
 " Be that as it may, dearest father," replied thfe younger 
 Philipson, " I pray you to be persuaded by me ; and if we must 
 part company, let it be by your taking the right bank of tlie 
 Rhine, since I am persuaded it is the safest route." ' 
 
 " And if it be the safest^" said the father, with a voice of 
 tender reproach, " is that a reason why I should spare my own 
 almost exhausted thread of life, and expose thine, my dear son, 
 which has but begun its course ? " 
 
 ; " Nay, father," answered the son with animation, "in speak- 
 ing thus you do not consider the difference of our importance 
 to the execution of the purpose which, you have so long enter- 
 tained, and which seems now so nigh being accomplished. 
 Think 1)qw imperfectly I might be able to discharge it, without 
 knowledge of the Duke's person, or credentials to gain his con- 
 fidence. I might, indeed, repeat your words, but the circum- 
 stances would be wanting to attiact the necessary faith, and of 
 consequence, your scheme, for the success of which you have 
 lived, and now are willing to run the risk of death, would mis- 
 carry along with me." 
 
 "You cannot shake my resolution," saicj the elder Philip- 
 son, " or persuade me that my life is of more importance than 
 .yours. You only remind me, that it is you, and not Ij who 
 ought; to be the bearer of this token to the Duke of Burgundy. 
 Should you be successful in reaching his court or camp, your 
 possession of these' gems will be needful to attach credit to 
 your mission ; a purpose for which they would be less neces- 
 sary to me, who can refer to other circumstances under 
 which I might claim credence, if it should please Heaven 
 to leave me alone to acquit myself of this important commis- 
 sion, which rnay Our Lady, in her mercy, f orefend ! Under- 
 stand, therefore, that, should an opportunity occur by which 
 you can make your way to the opposite side of the Rhine, you 
 are to direct your journey so as again to cross to this bank at 
 Strassburg, where you will inquire for news of me at the Fl)-- 
 ing Stag, a hostelry in that city which you will easily discover. 
 If you hear no tidings of me at that place, you will proceed to 
 the Duke, and deliver, to him, this important packet." 
 
 Here he put into his son's hand, with as much privacy as 
 possible, the case containing the diamond necklace. 
 
 "What else your duty calls on you to do," continued the 
 elder Philipson, "you well know; only I conjure you, let no 
 
AffNE OF GEIERSTEm. 
 
 205 
 
 vain inquiries after my fate interfere with the great duty you 
 have there to discharge. In the meantime, prepare to bid me 
 a sudden farewell, with a heart as bold and confident as when 
 you went before me, and courageously led the way amid the 
 rocks. and storms of Switzerland. Heaven was above us then, 
 as it is over us now. Adieu, my beloved Arthur! Should I 
 wait till the moment of separation, there may be but short time 
 to speak the fatal word, and no eye save thine own must see 
 the tear which I now wipe away." 
 
 The painful feeling which accompanied this anticipation of 
 their parting, was so sincere on Artliur's part, as well as that 
 of his father, that it did not at first occur to tiae former, as a 
 source of consolation, that it seemed likely he might be placed 
 under the guidance of the singular female, the memory of whom 
 haunted him. True it was, that the beauty of Anne' of Geier- 
 stein, as well as the striking circumstances in which she had ex- 
 hibited herself, had on that very morning been the principal 
 occupation of his mind ; but they were now chased from it by 
 the predominant recollection, that he was about to be separated 
 in a moment of danger from a father, so well deserving of his 
 highest esteem and his fondest affection. 
 
 Meanwhile, that father dashed from his eye the tear which 
 his devoted stoicism could not suppress, and, as if afraid of 
 softening his resolution by indulging his parental fondness, he 
 recalled the pious Bartholomew, to demand of him how far 
 they were from the Chapel, of the Ferry. 
 
 " Little more than a mile," was the reply ; and when the 
 Englishman required further information concerning the cause 
 of its erection, he was informed, that an old boatman and fisher-^ 
 man, named Hans, had long dwelt at the place, who gained a 
 precarious livelihood by transporting, travelers and merchants 
 from one bank of the river to the other. The misfortune, how- 
 ever, of losing first one boat and then a second, in the deep and- 
 mighty stream, with the dread inspired in travelers by the 
 repetition , of such accidents, began to render his profession an 
 uncertain one. Being a good. Catholic, the old man's distress' 
 took a devotional turn. He began to look back on his former 
 life, and consider by what crimes he had deserved the misfortunes 
 w,hich darkened the evening of his days. His remorse was 
 cliiefly excited by the recollection that he had, on one occasion, 
 when the passage was peculiarly stormy, refused to discharge 
 his duty as a ferryman, in order to transport to th'e other shore 
 a priest who bore along with him an image of the Virgin, 
 destined for the village of Kirch-ho£f, on the opposite or right' 
 bank of the Rhine. For this fault, Hans submitted to severe 
 
2a6 ANt7£: OF geiBrstein: 
 
 penance, as he was now disposed to consider as culpabl# his 
 doubt of tJie Virgin's power of protecting herself, her priest, 
 and the bark employed in her service ; besides w^hich, the offer- 
 ing of a large share of his worldly goods to the church of Kirch- 
 hofE expressed the truth of the old man's repetitance. Neither 
 did lie ever again permit himself to intefposfe any delay iti the 
 journey of men of holy Church ; but all ranks of the clergy, from 
 the ttiitred prelate to the barefooted friar, tnight at any titne of 
 day or night have commatlded the services of him and his boat. 
 
 While prosecuting so laudable a course of life, it became at 
 length the lot of Hans to find, on the banks of the Rhihe, a 
 small image of the VirgiUj thrown by the Waves, which appeared 
 to him exactly to resemble that which he had formerly ungraci- 
 outsly refused to carry across, when tinder charge of the sacristati 
 of fcirch-hoff. He placed it in the most conspicuous part of his 
 hut, and poured out his soul before it in devotion, anxiotisly 
 inquiring for some signal by which he might discover whether 
 he Was to consider the arrival of her holy image as a pledge 
 that his offences were forgiven. In the visions of the night, his 
 prayers were answered, and Our Lady, assuming the form of the 
 image, stood by his bedside, for the purpose of telling him 
 wherefore she had come hither. 
 
 " My trusty servant," shesaid, "men of Belial have burned 
 my dwelling at Kirch-hoff, spoiled my chapel, and thrown the 
 sacred image which represents me into the swollen Rhine, which 
 swept me downward. Now, I have resolved to dwell no longer 
 in the neighborhood of the profane doers of this deed, or of 
 the cowardly vassals who dared not prevent it. I am, therefore, 
 compelled to remove my habitation, and, in despite of the 
 op|)osing .current I determined to take the shore on this side, 
 being resolved to fix my abode with thee, my faithful servant, 
 that the land in which thou dwellest may be blessed, as well 
 as thou and thy household." 
 
 As the vision spolce, she seemed to wring from het tresses 
 the water in which they had been steeped, while her disordered 
 dress and fatigued appearance was that of one who has been 
 buffeting with the waves. 
 
 Next morning brought intelligence, that, in one of the 
 numerous feuds of that fierce period, Kirch-hoff had been sacked, 
 the church destroyed, and the church treasury plundered. 
 
 In consequence of the fisherman's vision being thus remark- 
 ably confirmed, Hans entirely renounced his profession, and, 
 le*^ii»g it to younger men to supply his place as ferryman, he 
 converted his hut into a rustic chapel, and he himself, taking 
 orders, attended upon the shrine as a hermit, or daily chaplain. 
 
AN^fE OP GMlERSTBttf. 209 
 
 The figure was supposed to work miracles, and the ferry became 
 renowned from .its being under the protection of the Holy 
 Image of Our Lady, and her no less holy servant. 
 
 When Bartholomew hid fcOncluded his account of, the Ferry 
 and its Chapel, the travelers had arrived at the:place itself. 
 
 CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. 
 
 Upon the Rhine, upon the Rhine they cluster, 
 
 The grapes of juice divine. 
 Which maKes the soldier's jovial courage muster ; 
 
 O blessed be the.Tlhine ! 
 
 Drinking Song.* 
 
 A COTTAGE or two on the side of the river, beside which were 
 moored one or two fishing-boats, showed the pious Hans had 
 successors in his profession as a boatman. The river, which at 
 a point a little lower was restrained by a chain of islets, ex- 
 panded more widely, and moved less rapidly, than when it 
 passed these cottages, affording to the ferryman a smoother 
 surface, and a less heavy stream to contend with, although the 
 current was even there too strong to be borne up against, unless 
 the river was in a tranquil state. 
 
 On the opposite bank, but a good deal lower than the ^hamlet 
 which gave name to the ferrj', was seated on a small eminence, 
 screened by trees and bushes, the little town of Kirch-hoff. A 
 skiff depaiting from the left bank was, even on favorable 
 occasions, carried considerably to leeward ere it could attain the 
 opposite side of the deep and full stream of the Rhine, so that 
 its course was oblique toward Kirch-hoff. On the other 
 hand, a boat departing from Kirch-hoff must have great advan- 
 tage both of wind and 6ars,'in order to land its loading or crew at 
 the Chapel of the Ferry, unless it were under the miraculous 
 influence which carried the image of the Virgin in that direction. 
 The communication, therefore, from the east to the west bank, 
 was only maintained by towing boats up the stream, to such a 
 heighten the eastern side, that the leeway which theymade 
 durifig the voyage across might correspond with the point at 
 ■which they desired to arrive, and enable them to attain it with 
 ease. Hence, it naturally happened, that the passage from 
 
 • This is one of the best and most popular of the German ditties :^- 
 " Am Uhein, am Rhein, da wachsen unsere Reben 
 •^Gesegnet sei der Rhein," etc 
 
2 o8 ANNE . OF GEIERSTBZN. 
 
 Alsace into Swabia being the most easy, tlie ferry was more 
 used by tliose wlio were desirous of entering Germany,: than' by 
 travelers who came in an opposite I direction. 
 
 When the elder Philipson had by a glance around him 
 ascertained the situation of the ferry, he said firmly to his son,— - 
 " Begone, my dear Arthur, and do what I have commanded 
 thee." 
 
 With a heart rent with filial anxiety, theyoling man obeyed, 
 and took his solitary course toward the cottages, near which 
 the barks were moored, which were occasionally used for fishing, 
 as well as for the purpose of the ferry. . 
 
 " Your son leaves us .'' " said Bartholomew to the elder 
 Philipson. 
 
 " He does for the presfeht," said his father, " as he has certain 
 inquiries to make in yonder hamlet." 
 
 " If they be," answered the guide, " any matters connected 
 with your honor's road,. I laud the Saints that I can better 
 answer your inquiries than those ignorant boors, who hardly 
 understand your language." 
 
 " If we find that their informatioii needs thy commentary,'' 
 said Philipson, " we will request it— meanwhile, lead on to the 
 chapel, where my son will join us." .. 
 
 They moved toward the chapel, but with slow steps, each 
 turning his looks aside to the fishing hamlet ; the guide as if 
 striving to see whether the younger, traveler was returning 
 toward them, th? father anxious to descry, on the broad bosom 
 of the Rhine, a sail unloosed, to waft his son across tp tha,t 
 which might be considered as the safer side. But though thp 
 looks of both guide and traveler were turned in the directiop 
 of the river, their steps carried them toward the chapel, to 
 which the inhabitants, in memory of the founder, had given the 
 title of Hans-Chapelle. 
 
 A few trees sqattered around gave an agreeable and silvan air 
 to the place ; and the chapel, that appeared on a rising ground 
 at some distance from the hamlet, was constructed in aistyle 
 of pleasing simplicity, which corresponded with the whole scene. 
 Its small size confirmed the tradition that it liad originally beep 
 merely the hut of a peasant ; and the cross of fir-trees, covered 
 with bark, attested the purpose to which it was now dedicated. 
 The chapel and all round it breathed peace and solemn.tran- 
 quilitj', and the deep sound of the mighty river seemed to 
 impose silence on each human voice which, might presume tp 
 mingle with its awful murmur. 
 
 When ^.Philipson arrived in the vicinity, Bartholomew took 
 the advantage afforded by his silence to thunder forth two 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 209 
 
 Stanzas ito the praise of the Lady of the Ferry, and her faithful 
 WtSrshipper Hans, after which he broke forth into the rapturous 
 exclamation, — " Come liither, ye who fear wreck, here is your 
 safe haven ! — Come hither, ye who die of thirst, here is a well 
 of mercy open to you ! — Come th&se who are weary and far- 
 traveled, this is your place of refreshment ! " — and more to the 
 same purpose he might have said, but Philipson sternly imposed 
 silence on him. ' - 
 
 " If thy devotion were altogether true," he said, " it would 
 he less clamoro^vs ;■ but ft- is well to do what is good in itself, 
 even if it is ahypocrite who recommends it. — Let us enter this 
 holy chapel, and pray for a fortunate issue to our precarious 
 travels." 
 
 The pardoner caught up the last wo^ds. 
 " Sure was I," he said, "that your worship is too well advised 
 to pass this holy place 'without imploring the protection and 
 influence of Our Lady of the Ferry. Tarry but a moment until 
 I find the priest who serves the altar, that he may say a mass 
 on your behalf." 
 
 Here he was interrupted by the door of the chapel suddenly 
 opening, when an ecclesiastic appeared on the threshold. 
 Philipson instantly knew the_ Priest of Saint Paul's, whom he 
 had seen that morning at La Ferette. Bartholomew also knew 
 Iiim, as it would seem ; for his officious hypocritical eloquence 
 failed him in an instant; and he stood' before the priest with 
 his arms folded on his breast, like a man who waits for the 
 sentence of condemnation. 
 
 " Villain," said the ecclesiastic, regarding the guide with a 
 Severe countenance, " dost thou lead a stranger into the 
 houses of the Hbly Saints, that thou mayst slay him, and possess 
 thyself of his spoils ? But Heaven will no longer bear with thy 
 perfidy. Back, thou wretch, to meet thy birother miscreants, 
 who are -hastening hitherward. Tell them thy arts were unavail- 
 ing and that the innocent stranger is under my protection — 
 under my protection, which those who presume fo violate will 
 meet with the reward of Archibald de Hagenbach !" 
 
 The guide stood quite motionless, while addressed by the 
 priest in a manner equally menacing and authoritative ; and 
 no sooner did the latter cease speaking, than, without offering 
 a word either in justification or reply, Bartholomew turned 
 round, and retreated at a hasty pace by the same road which 
 had conducted the traveler to the chapel. 
 
 " And do you, worthy Englishman," continued the priest, 
 " enter into this chapel and perform in safety those devotions, 
 by means of which yonder hypocrite designed to detain you 
 
210 ANNE'OF GEJERSTEI-N. 
 
 until his brethren in iniquity came up. — But first, wherefore 
 are you alone ? I trust nought evil hath befallen your young 
 companion?" 
 
 " My son," said Philipson, " crosses the Rhine at yonder 
 -ferry, as we had ■ important business to transact on the other 
 side." 
 
 As he spoke thus, a light boat, about which two or three 
 peasants had been for some time busy, was seen to push from 
 the shore, and shoot into the stream, to which it was partly 
 compelled to give way, until, a sail stretched along the slender 
 yard, and supporting the bark, against the current, enabled her 
 to stand obliquely acrossahe river. ,, 
 
 " Now, praise be to God ! " said Philipsori, who was aware 
 that the bark he looked upon must be in the act of carrying his 
 son beyond the reach of the dangers by which he was- himself 
 surrounded. 
 
 "Amen ! " answered the priest, echoing the pious ejacula- 
 tion ipf the traveler. " Great reason have you to return' ihanks 
 to Heaven." t ., 
 
 " Of that I am convinced," replied Philipson ; " but; yet 
 from you I hope to learn the special cause of danger from which 
 I have escaped ? " , 
 
 " This is neither time nor plaeS for suqh an investigation," 
 answered the priest of Saint Paul's. " It is enough to say, 
 that yonder fellow, well known for his hypocrisy and his crimes, 
 was present wJien the young Switzer, Sigismund, reclaimed from 
 the executioner the treasure of which yo,u were robbed by 
 Hagenbach. Thus Bartholomew's avarice was awakened. He 
 undertook to be your guide to Strassburg, with the criminal in- 
 tent of detaining you by the way till a party came up, against 
 whose numbers resistance would have been in vain. But his 
 purpose has been anticipated.-^-And now, ere giving vent to 
 other worldly thoughts, whether of hope or fear, — to the chapel,: 
 sir, and join in orisons to Him who hath been your aid, and to. 
 those who have interceded vyith Him in your behalf." 
 
 Philipson entered the chapel with his, guide, and joined in 
 returning thanks to heaven and the tutelary power of the spot, 
 for the escape which had been vouchsafed to hira. 
 
 When this duty had been performed, Philipson intimated 
 his pur-pose of resuming his journey, to which the Black Priest 
 replied, " that far from delaying him in a place so dangerous, 
 he would himself accompany him for some part of the journey,! 
 since he also was bound to the presence of the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy," 
 
ANNE OF CEIEKSTEIN. 211 
 
 "You, my, father !— you ! " said the merchant^ with some 
 astonishmenti 
 
 " And wherefore surprised ? " answeredthe priest-. " Is it so 
 strange that one of my order should visit a prince's court ? Be- 
 lieve me, tliere are but too many of them to be found tliere. " 
 
 " I do not speak with reference to, your order," answered 
 Philipson, " but in regardfof tlie part which you have this day 
 acted, in abetting the execution of Archibald de Hagenbach. 
 Know you so little of the fiery Duke ofBurgundy, as to imagine 
 you can dally with his resentment with more safety than you 
 would pull the mane of a sleeping lion ?'' 
 
 " I know his mood well," said the priest ; " and it is not to 
 excuse, but to defend' the death of De Hagenbach, that I go to 
 his presence. The Duke may execute his serfs and bondsmen 
 at hi§ pleasure, but 4here is a spell upon my life, which is proof 
 to all his power. But let me retort the question — You, Sir 
 Englishman, knowing the conditions of the Duke so well — -you, 
 so lately the guest and traveling compg:nion of the most un- 
 welcome visitors who could approach him — you, implicated, in 
 appearance at least, in the uproar at La Ferette — what chance 
 is thereof your escaping his vengeance .? and wherefore will you 
 throw yourself wantonly within his power ? " 
 
 "Worthy father;" said the merchant, "let etich of us, with- 
 out offence to. the other, keep his own secret. I ha\e, indeed, 
 no spell to secure me for the Duke's resentment — I have limbs 
 to suffer torture and/ imprisonment, and property which may be 
 seized and confiscated. But I have had in former days many 
 dealings with the Duke ; I may even say I have laid him under 
 obligations, and hope my interest with him may in consequence 
 be sufficient, not only to save me from the consequences of 
 this day's procedure, but be of some avail to my friend the 
 Landamman." 
 
 " But if you are in reality bound to the court of Burgundy 
 as a merchant," said the priest, " where are the wares in which 
 you traffic ? Have you no merchandise save that which you 
 carry on your person ? d: heard of; a sumpter-horse with baggage. 
 Has yonder villain deprived you of it ? " 
 
 This wasatrying.question to Philipson, who, anxious about 
 the separation from his son, had given no direction whether the 
 baggage should remain with himself, or should be transported 
 to the: other Slide of the Rhine. He was, therefo-re, taken- at 
 advantage by the priest's inquiry, to which, he answered, with 
 some incoherence, — " I believe ray baggage is in the hamlet"— 
 that is, unless my son has- taken it across the Rhine with him^'' 
 
 " That we will soon learn," answered the priest. 
 
212 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Here a novice appeared from the vestiary of the chapel at his 
 call, and received commands to inquire at the hamlet whether 
 Philipson's bales, with the horse which transported them, had 
 been left there, or ferried over along with his son. 
 
 The novice, being absent a few minutes, presently retuaned 
 with the baggage-horse, which, with its burden, Arthur, from 
 regard to his father's accommodation, had left on the western 
 side of the river. The priest ■ looked on attentively, while the 
 elder Philipson, mounting his own horse, and taking the rein 
 of the others in his hand, bade the Black Priest adieu in these 
 words, — " And now, father, farewell ! , I must pass on with my 
 bales, since there is little wisdom in traveling with theni after 
 nightfall, else would I gladly suit my pace, with your permis- 
 sion, so as to share the way with you.'' i 
 
 " If it is your obliging purpose to do so, as indeed I was 
 about to propose," said the- priest, " know: I will be no stay to 
 your journey. I have here a good horse; and Melchior, who 
 must otherwise have gone on foot, may ride upon your sumpter- 
 horse. I the rather propose, this course, as it will be rash for 
 ;you to travel by night. I can conduct you to an hostelry about 
 sfive miles off, which we may reach with sufficient daylight, and 
 where you will be lodged safely for your reckoning." 
 
 The English merchant hesitated a moment. He had no 
 iancy for any new companion on the road, and although the 
 countenance of the priest was rather handsome, considering his 
 years, yet the expression was such as by no means inviteds 
 confidence. On the contrary, there was something mysterious 
 ,and gloomy which cloude-d his brow, though it was a lofty one, 
 and a similar expression gleamed in his cold gray eye, and 
 intimated severity and even harshness of disposition. But not- 
 withstanding this repulsive circumstance, the priest had lately 
 rendered Philipson a considerable service by detecting the 
 treachery of his hypocritical guide, and the merchant was not a 
 man to be startled from his course by any imaginary preposses- 
 ions against the looks or manners of anyone, or apprehensions 
 of machinations against himself. He only revolved in his mind 
 the singularity attending his destiny, which, while it was 
 necessary for him to appear before the Duke of Burgundy in the 
 most conciliatory manner, seemed to force upon him the adoption 
 of companions who must needs ' be obnoxious to that prince ; 
 and such, he was, too well aware, must be the case with the 
 Priest of St. Paul's. Having reflected for an instant, he courte- 
 ously accepted the offer of the priest to guide him to some place 
 of rest and entertainment, which inust be absolutely necessai'y 
 
ANN£ OF GEIERSTEm. 213 
 
 for his horse before he reached Strassburg, even if he himge.H 
 could have dispensed with it. i' 
 
 The party being thus arranged, the noviee brought forth the 
 priest's steed, which he mounted with: grace and agility, and 
 the neophyte, being probably the same whom Arthur had repre- 
 sented during his escape from La FerettCj-took charge,iat his 
 master's command ot the baggage-horse : of the Englishman; 
 and, crossing himself, with a humble inclination of his head, 
 as the priest passed him, he fell into the rear, and seemed to 
 pass the time, like the false- brother Bartholomew, in telling 
 his beads,: with an earnestness which had perhaps more of 
 affected than of real piety. The Black Priest of St. Paul's, to 
 judge by the glance which he cast upon his novice^ seemed to 
 disdain the formality of the young man's devotion. He rode 
 upon a strong black horse, more like a warrior's charger than 
 the ambling palfrey of a priest, and the manner in which he 
 managed him was entirely devoid of awkwardness and timidity. 
 His pride, whatever was its character, was not certainly of a 
 kind altogether professional, but had its origin in other swelling 
 thoughts which: arose in his mind, to mingle with and enhance 
 the self-consequence of a powerful ecclesiastic. 
 
 As Philipson looked on his, companion from time to "time, 
 his scrutinizing glance was returned .by a haughty smile, which 
 seemed to say, " You may gaze on my form and features, but 
 you cannot penetrate my mystery." 
 
 The looks of: Philipson, which were never known to sink 
 before inortal man, seemed to retort, with equal haughtiness, 
 "Nor shall you, proud priest, know that you are now in com- 
 pany with one whose secret is far more important than thine 
 own can be." 
 
 At length the priest made some advance toward conversation, 
 by allusion to the footing upon which, by a mutual understand- 
 ing, they seemed to have placed their intercourse. 
 
 " We travel then," he said, " like two powerful enchanters, 
 each conscious of his own high and secret purpose ; each in his 
 own chariot of clouds, and neither imparting to his companion 
 the direction or purpose of his journey." 
 
 " Excuse me, father," answered Philipson, " I have neither 
 asked your purpose, nor concealed my own, so far as it concerns 
 you. i repeat I am bound to the presence of the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy, and my object, like that of any other merchant, is to' 
 dispose of my wares to advantage." 
 
 " Doubtless, it would seem so," said the Black Priest, " from 
 the extreme attention to your merchandise which you showed 
 not above half-an-hour since, when you knew not whether your 
 
214 
 
 ANNE OF GEIBRSTEIN. 
 
 bales had crossed the river with your son, or were remaining in 
 your own charge. Are English merchants usually so indifferent 
 to the sources of their traffic ? " 
 
 " When their lives are in danger," said Philipson, " they are 
 sometimes negligent of their fortune." 
 
 " It is well," replied the priest, and again resumed his solitary 
 musings ; until another half-hour's traveling brought them to a 
 dorff, or village, which the Black Priest informed 'Philipson was 
 that where he proposed to stop for the night. 
 
 " The novice," he said, " will show you the inn, which is of 
 good reputation, and where you may lodge with safety. For 
 me, I have to visit a penitent in this village, who desires my 
 ghostly offices; — perhaps' I may see you again this evening, 
 perhaps not till the next morning ; — at any rate, adieu for the 
 present." 
 
 So saying, the priest stopped his horse, while the novice, 
 coming close up to Philipson's side, conducted him onward 
 through the narrow street of the village, whilst the windows 
 exhibited here and there a twinkling gleam announcing that 
 the hour of darkness was arrived. Finally he led the English- 
 man through an archway into a sort of courtyard, where there 
 stood a car or two of a particular shape, used occasionally by 
 woman when they travel, and some other vehicles of the same 
 kind. Here the young man threw himself from the sumpteiF- 
 horse, and placing the rein in Philipson's hand, disappeared in 
 the increasing darkness, after pointing to a large but dilapidat- 
 ed building, along the front of which not a spark of light was 
 to be discovered from any of the narrow and numerous win- 
 dows, which were dimly visible in the twilight. 
 
ANNE OF CEIERSTBIN. 215 
 
 . CHAPTER NINETEENTH. 
 
 ^/Vrf Camis/s.— What, ostler !. — a plague on thee, hastr never an, eye in 
 thy head? Canstthou not hear. An twere not as good a deed as drink to 
 break the pate of thee, I am a very villain — Come, and be hanged — Hast 
 thou no faith in thee ? 
 
 Gadshtil. — I pray thee, lend' me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the 
 stable. 
 
 Second Carrier. — Nay, soft, I pray you— I know a trick worth two of 
 that. 
 
 Gadshill. — I prithee lend me thine. 
 
 Third Carrier. — Ay, when? Canst tell ? — Lend thee my lantern, quo- 
 tha? Marry, I'll see thee hanged first. 
 
 Henry IV. 
 
 The social spirit peculiar to the French nation had already 
 introduced into the inns of that country the gay and chebrful 
 character of welcome, upon which Erasmus, at a latter period, 
 dwells with strong emphasis, as a contrast to the saturnine and 
 sullen reception vyhich strangers were apt to meet with at a Ger- 
 man caravansera. Philipson was, therefore, in expectation of 
 being received by the biisy, civil, and talkative host — by the 
 hostess and her daughter, all softness, coquetry, and glee — the 
 srhiling and supple waiter — the officious and' dimpled chamber- 
 maid. The better inns in France boast also separate rooms, 
 where strangers could change or put in order their dress, where 
 they might sleep without company in their bedroom, and where 
 they could deposit their baggage in privacy and safety. But 
 all these luxuries were as yet unknown in Germany ; and in 
 Alsace, where the scene now lies, as well as in the other de- 
 pendencies pf the Empire, they regarded as effeminacy every- 
 thing beyond such provisions as were absolutely necessary for 
 the supply of the wants of travelers ; and even these were 
 coarse and indifferent, and, excepting in the article of wine, 
 sparingly ministered. 
 
 The Englishman, finding that no one appeared at the gate, 
 began to make his presence'known by calling aloud, and finally 
 by' alighting, and smiting with all his might on the doors of 
 the hostelry for a long time, without attracting the least atten- 
 tion. At length the head of a grizzled servitor was thrust out 
 at a small window, who, in a voice which sounded like that of 
 one displeased' at the interruption, rather than hopeful of 
 advantage from the arrival of a guest, demanded what he 
 wanted, ' 
 
2 j6 • ANNS OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " Is this an inn ? " replied Philipson. 
 
 " Yes," bluntly replied the domestic, and was about to with- 
 draw from the window, when the traveler added, — 
 
 " And if it be, can I have lodgings ? " 
 
 " You may come in," was the «h6'rt ind dry answer. 
 
 " Send some one to take the horses," replied Philipson. 
 
 "■No one is at leisure," replied this most repulsive of 
 waiters ; " you must litter down ypur horses yourself, in the 
 way that likes you best." 
 
 ? "Where is the stable?" said the merchant, whose pm- 
 dence and temper were scarce proof against this Dutch phlegm. 
 
 The fellow, who seemed as sparing of his words, as if, like 
 the Princess in the fairy tale, he had dropped, ducats with each 
 of them, only pointed to a door in an outer building, more re- 
 sembling tljfit of a cellar than of a stable, and, as if weary of 
 the donference, drew in his head, and shut the window sharply 
 against the guest, as he would,against an importunate beggar. 
 
 , Cijrsing the spirit of independence which left a traveler to 
 his own resources - and, e^tertions, Philipson, making a virtue of 
 necessity, led the tjvonags toj^'ard the; door pointed out; as 
 that of thq, stable, and was rejoiced at, heart to see light glim- 
 mering .through its chinks. He entered with his charge into, a 
 place very like the dungeon vault of.,jn ; ancient castle, rudely 
 fitted up with sori^e racjis, and mangers. ., It was: of considerable 
 extent, ;in: point,, of, , length, anclatthe lQVi[er, end two qr three 
 persons-were engaged in tying up their horses, dressing them, 
 arid dispensing them their provender.. , i,. 
 
 This last article w^s delivered by thp ostler, a very old, lame 
 man, who neither put his, hand to wisp n,or curry-comb, but, sat 
 weighing forth hay by the pound, and gounting out corn, as it 
 seemed,, by the grain, so anxiously did he bend over his task, / 
 by the aid, of a blinking ,light: enclosed witli,in a horn lantern. 
 He did not even turn his head at the,, noise vv'hich the ,pnglish- 
 man made, on pntering the, place with two ,ad(iii,ional,horses, far 
 less did he seem disposed to give himself thejea^t trouble^or 
 the stranger the smallest assistance. 
 
 In respect of cleanliness, the. stable of Augeas bore no small 
 resennblance to that, of this Alsatian dorff ;,,and:it, would have 
 been an exploit worthy of Hercules to have .I'^stpred it to such 
 a state of, clpanliness, ,51s would have made it; barely decent in 
 the eyes, and tolerable to the nostrils, of the punctilious English- 
 man. But this was a matter which disgusted Philipson himself 
 much rnore th^n those of his, party which were principally con- 
 cerned. They, ..e/^i/^AV^/ tl:e, two horses, .seepning perfectly to 
 understand that the rule of the place was, "first come first; 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN, 
 
 217 
 
 served," hastened to occupy the empty stalls which happened 
 to be nearest to them. In this one of them at least was disap- 
 pointed, being received by a grooni with a blow across the face 
 with a switch. 
 
 "Take thaty" said the fellow, "for forcing thyself intp the 
 place taken up for the; horses of the Baron of Randelsheim.'' 
 
 " Never in the course of his life had the English merchant 
 more pain to retain possession of i his temper than at that mo- 
 ment. Reflecting, however, on the discredit of quarreling with 
 such a man in such a cause, he contented himself with placing 
 the animal,, thus repulsed from the stall he had chosen, into 
 one next to that of his companion, to which no one seemed to 
 lay claim. ■■ ■■ - . .1 .. '. ;;;,,;.,, 
 
 The merchant then proceeded, notwithstanding the fatigue 
 of the day> to pay all that attention to the mute • companions 
 of his journey, which they deserve from every -traveler who has 
 any share of prudence, to say ■ nothiirog of humanity. The 
 unusual degree of trouble ■ which Philipson took' to arrange his 
 horses although his dress, and much more his demeanor, 
 seemed to place him above this species of servile labor^ ap- 
 peared to make an impression even upon the iron insensibility 
 of the old ostler himself. He showedsome alacrity in furnishing 
 the ifrraveler, who knew the business of -a groom so- well, with 
 corn, straw, and hay, thougih in small quantity, and at exorbitant 
 rates, which were instantly to be paid; nay, he eveiiwent 
 as far as the door of the.stable, that he might point acrofes the 
 court to tlae well, from which Philipson v/as obliged to fetch 
 waiter with his own hands. The duties of the stable being 
 finished, the merchant concluded that he had gained such ati 
 interest with the' grim toaster of the horse, as to learn of him 
 whether he might leave his bales safely in the stable. "• 
 
 "You may leave them if you, will," said the ostler,' "but 
 touching their safety, you will do much more wisely if you take 
 them with- you, and give no temptation to any one by suflering 
 them to pas's from under your own eyes." 
 
 So saying, the man of oats closed his oracular jaws, nor 
 could he he prevailed upon to unlock them again by any inquiry 
 which his customer could devise. ' 
 
 In the course of this cold and comfortless reception, Philipson 
 recollected the necessityiof supporting the character of a pru- 
 dent and wary trader, which he had forgotten once before in 
 the course Of the day; arid, imitating what he saw the others 
 do, who had been like himself, engaged in taking charge -Of their 
 horses, he took up his baggage, and removed himself and his 
 property to the inn. Here he was suffered to enter, rather 
 
aig AmrE OF GRiERSTiim. 
 
 than admitted, into the general or public stube, or room of en- 
 tertainment, which, like the ark of the patriarch, received all 
 rancks without distinction, whether clean or unclean. 
 
 The stube, or stove, of a German inn, derived its name from 
 the great hypocaust, which is always strongly heated to secure 
 the warmth of the apartment in which it is placed. There 
 travelers of every age and description assembled — there their 
 upper garments were indiscriminately hung up around the stove 
 to dry or to air — 'and the guests themselves were seen employed 
 in various acts of ablution or personal arrangement, which are 
 generally, in modern times, referred to the privacy of the 
 dressing-room. . 
 
 The more refined feelings of the Englishman were disgusted 
 with this scene, and he was reluctant to mingle in it. For 
 this reason he inquired for the private retreat of the landlord 
 himself, trusting that, by some of the arguments powisrful 
 among his tribe, he might obtain separate quarters from the 
 crowd, and a morsel of food, to be eaten in private. A gray- 
 haired Ganymede, to whom he put the question where the 
 landlord was, indicated a recess behind the huge stove, where, 
 veiling his glory in a very dark and extremely hot corner, it 
 pleased the great man to obscure himself from vulgar gaze. 
 There was something remarkable about this person. Short, 
 stout, bandj'legged, and consequential, he was in these re-, 
 pects like many brethren of the profession ip all countries. 
 But the countenance of the man, and still more his manners, 
 differed more from the merry host of. France or England, than 
 even the experienced -Philipson was prepared to expect. He 
 knew German customs too well to expect, the suppliant and 
 serviceable qualities of the master of a French inn, or even the 
 niiore blunt and frank manners of an English landlord. But 
 such German innkeepers as he had yet seen, though indeed 
 arbitrary and peremptory in their country fashions, yet being 
 humored in these, they, like tyrants in their hours of relax- 
 ation, dealt kindly with the guests over whom their sway ex- 
 tended, and mitigated, by jest and -jollity, the harshness of 
 their absolute power. But this man's brow was like a tragic 
 volume, in which you were as unlikely to find anything of -jest 
 or amusement, as in a hermit's breviary. His answers were 
 short, sudden, and repulsive, and the air and manner with 
 which they were delivered was as surly as their tenor ; which 
 will appear from the! following dialogue betwixt him and his 
 guest:— 
 
 " Good host," said Philipson, in the mildest tone he could 
 assume, "I am fatigued, andfarfrom well — May I request to 
 
ANN^E 01'' GEIERSTEIXt. Jtg 
 
 have a separate apartment, a cup of wihe, and a morsel of 
 food, in my private ciiamber? " 
 
 " You may," answered tlie landlord ; but with a look 
 strangely at variance =with the apparent acquiescence which his 
 words naturally implied. 
 
 '"Let me have such accommodation, then, with your earliest 
 convenience." 
 
 " Soft ! " replied the innkeeper. " I have said that you 
 may request these things, but not that I would grant them. If 
 you would insist on being served differently from others, it 
 must be at another inn than mine." 
 
 " Well, then," said the traveler, " I will ^shift without sup- 
 per for a night — nay, more, I will be content to pay for a sup- 
 per whch 1 do not eat, if you will cause me to be accom- 
 modated with a private apartment." 
 
 " Seignor traveler," said the innkeeper, "every one here 
 must be accommodated as well as you, since all pay alike. 
 Whoso comes to this house of entertainment must eat as others 
 eat, drink as others drink, sit at table with the rest of my 
 guests, and go to bed when the company have done drinking." 
 
 " All this," said Philipson, humbling himself where anger 
 would have been ridiculous, " is highly reasonable ; and- I do 
 not oppose myself to your laws or customs. But," added he, 
 taking his purse from his girdle, " sickness craves some priv- 
 ilege ; and when the patient is willing to pay for it, methinks 
 the rigor of your laws may admit of some mitigation ? " 
 
 " I keep an inn, Seignor, and not a hospital. If you remain 
 here, you shall be served with the same attendon as others, — 
 if you are not willing to do as others do, leave my house- and 
 seek another inn." 
 
 On receiving this decisive rebuff, Philipson gave up the con- 
 test, and retired from the sanctum sanctorum of his ungracious 
 host, -to await the arrival of supper, penned up like a bullock 
 in a pound amongst the crowded inhabitants of the stitbe. 
 Some of _ these, exhausted by fatigue, snored away the interval 
 between their own arrival and that of the expected repast ; 
 others conversed together on the news of the country, and 
 othere again played at dice, or such games as might serve to 
 consume the time. The company were of various ranks, from 
 those who were apparently wealthy and well appointed, to some 
 whose garments and manners indicated that they were but just 
 beyond the grasp of poverty. 
 
 A begging friar, a man apparently of a gay and pleasant 
 temper, approached Philipson, and engaged^him in conversation. 
 The Englishman was well enough acquainted with the world 
 
220 ARNE OF GEIERSTEm. 
 
 to be aware, that whatever of his character and purpose it was 
 desirable to conceal, would be best hidden under a sociable and 
 open demeanor. He, therefore, received the friar's approaches 
 graciously, and conversed with him upon the state of Lorraine, 
 an4 the interest which the Duke of Burgundy's attempt to seize 
 that fief into his own hands was likely to create both in France 
 and Germany. On these subjects satisfied with hearing his fel- 
 low-traveler's sentiments, Philipson expressed no opinion of his 
 own, but, after receiving such intelligence as the friar chose to 
 communicate, preferred rather to talk upon the geography of 
 the country, the facilities afforded to commerce, and the rules 
 which obstructed or favored trade. 
 
 While he was thus engaged in the, conversation which seemed 
 most to belong to his profession, the landlord suddenly entered 
 the room, and, mounting on the head of an old. barrel, glanced 
 his eye slowly and steadily round the crowded apartment, and 
 when he had completed his survey, pronounced, in a decisive 
 tone, the double command — "Shut the gates — Spread the 
 table." 
 
 "The Baron St. Antonio be praised," said the friar, " our 
 landlord has given up hope of any more guests to-night, until 
 ■which blessed time we might have starved for want of food 
 before he had relieved us. Ay, here comes the cloth, the old 
 gates of the courtyard are now bolted fast enough, and whe," 
 lohann Mengs lias once said, ' Shut the- gates,' the stranger may 
 knock on the outside as he will, but we may rest assured that 
 it shall not be open to him." 
 
 " Meinherr Mengs maintains strict discipline in his house," 
 said the Englishman. 
 
 " As absolute as the Duke of Burgundy," answered the friar. 
 "After ten o'clock, no admittance — the 'seek another inn,' 
 which is before , that a conditional hint, becomes, after the 
 clock has struck, and the watchmen have ibegun i heir rounds, 
 an absolute order of exclusion. He that is without remains 
 without, and he that is within must, in like manner, continue 
 there until the gates open at break of day. Till' then the 
 house is almost like a beleaguered citadel, John Mengs i^s 
 .seneschal " — 
 
 " And we its captives, good father," said Philipson. "Well, 
 content am I ; a wise traveler must submit ,to the control of 
 the leaders of the people, when he travels; and.I hope a goodly 
 fat potentate, like John Mengs, will be as clement as his statiori 
 •and dignity admit of." ' - , 
 
 While they were talking in this manner, the aged waiter, 
 with many a weary sigh, and many a groan, h^^d drawn out 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEm. 221 
 
 certain boards, by which a tablcj that stood in the midst of the 
 stube, had the capacity of being extended, so as to contain the 
 company present, and cavered it with a cloth, which was neither 
 distinguished by extreme cleanliness nor fineness of texture. 
 On this table, when it had been accommodated to receive the 
 necessEiry number of guests, a wooden trencher and spoon, 
 together with a glass drinking cup, were placed before each, 
 he being expected to serve himself with his own knife for the 
 other purposes of the table. As for forks, they were unknown 
 until a much later period, all the Europeans of that day making 
 the same use of -the fingers to select their morsels and transport 
 them to the mouth, which the Asiatics now practice. 
 
 The board was no sooner arranged, than the hungry guests 
 hastened to occupy their seats around it ; for which purpose the 
 sleepers were awakened,, the dicers resigned their game, and the 
 idlers and politicians broke off their sage debates, in order to 
 secure their station at the supper-table, and be ready to perform 
 their part in the interesting solemnity which seemed about to 
 take place. But there is much between the cup and the lip, 
 and' not less sometimes between the covering of a table and the 
 placing food upon it. Thei guests sat in order, each with his 
 knife drawn, already menacing the victuals which were still 
 subject to the operations of the cook. They had waited with 
 various degrees of patience for full half-an-hour, when at length 
 the old attendant before mentioned entered with a pitcher of thin 
 Moselle wine, , so light and so sharp-tasted, that Philipson put 
 down his cup with- every tooth in his head set on edge by the 
 slender portion which he had swallowed. The landlord, John 
 Mengs, who had assumed a seat somewhat elevated at the head 
 ofi the table, did not omit to observe this mark of insubordina- 
 tion, and to animadvert upon it. 
 
 " The wine likes you not, I think, my master ! "said he to 
 the English merchant. 
 
 " For wine, no," answered Philipson ; "but, could I see any- 
 thing requiring such sauce, I hate seldom seen better vinegar." 
 
 This jest, though uttered in the most calm and composed 
 manner, seemed to drive the innkeeper to fury. 
 
 "Who are you," he exclaimed, "for a foreign pedler, that 
 ventures to quarrel with my wine, which'has been approved of 
 by so many princes, dukes, reigning dukes, graves, rhinegraves, 
 counts^ barons, and knights of the Empire, whose shoes you are 
 altogether unworthy even to clean ? Was it- not of this wine 
 that the Count Palatine of. Nimmersatt drank six quarts before 
 he ever rose from the blessed chair in which I now sit ? " 
 
 "I doubt it not, mine host," said Philipson; " nor should I 
 
222 AffNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 think of scandalizing the sobriety of your honorable' guest, 
 even if he had dnunken twice the; quantity." 
 
 '' Silence, thou malioious railer ! " s«id, the host ; " and let 
 instant apology be made to me, and the wine which you have 
 calumniated, or I will instantly command the supper to be 
 postponed till midnight." 
 
 Here there was a general alarm among the guests, all ab- 
 juring any part in the censures of Philipson, and most of them 
 jDroposing that John Mengs should avenge himself on the actual 
 culprit, by turning him instantly out of doors, rather than in- 
 volve so many innocent and famished persons in the conse- 
 quences of his guilt. The wine they pronounced excellent ; 
 some two or three even drank their glass out,, to make their 
 words good ; and they all offered, if not with lives and fortunes, 
 at least with hands and feet, to support the ban of the house 
 against the contumacious Englishman. While petition and 
 remonstrance were assailing John Mengs on every side, the friar, 
 like awise counselor, and a trusty friend, endeavored to end the 
 feud, by advising Philipson to submit to the host's sovereignty. 
 
 " Humble thyself, my son," he said ; " bend the stubborness 
 of thy heart before the great lord of the spigot and butt. I 
 speak for the sa:ke of others as well as my own ; for Heaven 
 alone knows how much longer they or I can endure this ex- 
 tenuating fast ! " 
 
 " Worthy guests," said Philipson, " I am grieved to have 
 offended our respectedJiost, and am so far from objecting to 
 the wine, that I will pay for a double fiagon of it, to be served 
 all round to this honorable company — so, only, they do not 
 ask me to share of it." 
 
 These last words were spoken aside ; but the Englishman 
 could not fail to perceive, from the wry mouths of some of the 
 party wlio were: possessed of a nicer palate, that they were as 
 much afraid as himself of a repetition of the acid potation. 
 
 The friar next addressed the; company with a proposal,. that 
 the foreign merchant, instead of being amerced in a measure 
 of the liquor which he had scandalized, should be mulcted in 
 an equal quantity of the more generous wines which were 
 usually produced after the repast had been concluded, In this 
 mine host, as well as the guests, found their advantage ; and, 
 as Philipson made no objection, the proposal was unanimously 
 adopted, and John Mengs gave, from his seat of dignity, the 
 signal for supper to be served. 
 
 The long-expected meal appeared, and; there was twice as 
 much time employed in consuming as there had been in expecte, 
 ing it. The articles which the supper coiisisted^ as well as the 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 223 
 
 mode of serving them up, were as much calculated to try the 
 patience of the company as the delay which had preceded its 
 appearance. Messes of broth and vegetables followed in succes- 
 sion, with platters of meat sodden and toasted^ of which each 
 in its turn took a formal course around the ample table, and was 
 specially subjected to every one in rotation. Black-puddings, 
 hung beef, dried fish, also made the circuit, with various condi- 
 ments, called Botargo, Caviare, and similar names, composed of 
 the roes of fish mixed with spices, and the like preparations cal- 
 culated to awaken thirst and encourage deep drinking. Flagons 
 of wine accompanied these stimulating dainties. The liquor 
 was so superior in flavor and strength to the ordinary wine which 
 had awakened so much controversy, that it might be objected 
 to on the' opposite account, being so heady, fiery, and strong, 
 that, in spite of the rebuffs which his criticism had already 
 procured, Philipson ventured to ask for some cold water to 
 allay it. 
 
 " You are too difficult to please, sir guest," replied the land- 
 lord, again bending upon the Englishman a stern and offended 
 brow ; " if you find the wine too strong in my house, the secret 
 to allay its strength is to drink the less. It is indifferent to us 
 whether you drink or not, so you pay the reckoning of those 
 good fellows who do." And he laughed a gruff laugh. 
 
 Philipson was about to* reply,, but the friar, retaining his 
 character, ot mediator, plucked him by the cloaik, and entreated 
 him to forbear. " You do not understand the ways of the 
 place," said he ; " it is not here as in the hostelries of England 
 and France, where each guest calls for what he desires for his 
 own use, and where he pays for what he has required, and for 
 no more. Here we proceed on a broad prinqiple of equality 
 and fraternity. No one asks for anything in particular ; but 
 such provisions as the host thinks sufficient are set down before 
 all indiscriminately ; and as with the feast, so is it with the 
 reckoning. All pay their proportions alike, without reference 
 to the quantity of wine which one may have swallowed more 
 than another ; and thus the sick and infirm, nay, the female and 
 the child, pay the same as the hungry peasant and strolling 
 lanz-knecht." ' 
 
 " It seems an unequal custom," said Philipson ; " but travel- 
 ers are not to judge. So that, when a reckoning is called, 
 every one, I am to understand, pays alike ? " 
 
 " Such is the rule," said the friar, — " exceptitig, perhaps, 
 some poor brother of our own order, whom Our Lady and St. 
 Francis send into such a scene as thisj that good Christians 
 
224 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 may bestow their alms upon him, and so make a. step; on their 
 road to Heaven." 
 
 The first words of this speech were spoken in the open and 
 independent tone of which the friar had begun the conversa- 
 tion ; the' last sentence died away, into tlie professional whine 
 of mendicity proper to the convent, and at once apprised 
 Philipson: at what price he was to pay for the friar's counsel 
 ;a,nd mediation. Having thus explained the custom of the 
 country, good'FatherGratian-turned to illustrate it by his ex- 
 ample, and, having no objection to the new service of wine on 
 account of its strength, he seemed well disposed to signalize 
 hiiijself amongst some stout topers, who, by drinking deeply, 
 appeared determined to have full pennyworths for their share 
 of the reckoning. The good wine gradually did its office, and 
 even the host relaxed his sullen and grim features, and smiled 
 to see the kindling flame of hilarity catch from oneLto another, 
 and at length embrace almost all the numerous guests at the 
 table- d'hote, except a few who were too temperate to partake 
 deeply of the wine, or too fastidious to enter into the discus- 
 sions to which it gave rise. Onithese,the host cast, from time 
 to time, a sullen and displeased eye. 
 
 Philipson, who was reserved and. silent, both in consequence 
 of his abstinence from the wine-pot, and his unwillingness to 
 mix in conversation with strangers, was looked upon by the 
 landlord as a defaulter in both particulars ; and as he aroused 
 his own sluggish nature with the fiery wine, Mengs began to 
 throw out obscure hints about kill-joy, mar-company, spoil-sport, 
 apd such-like epithets, which were plainly directed against the 
 Englishman. Philipson replied, with the utmost equanimity, 
 that he was perfectly sensible , that his spirits did not at this 
 moment render hirn an agreeable member of a merry company, 
 and that, with the leave of those present, he would withdraw to 
 his sleeping apartment, and wish them all a good evening, and 
 continuance of their mirth. 
 
 Butthis very reasonable.proposal, as it might have elsewhere 
 seemed, contained in it treason against the laws of German 
 compotation. - -■, ;;.iii,^.i 
 
 " Who are you," said^ohn Mengs, " who presume to leave 
 the table before the reckoning is called and settled ? Sapper- 
 ment der teufel ! we are not men upon whom such an offence 
 is to be put with impunity ! You may exhibit your polite 
 pranks in Rams- Alley if you will, or in Eastcheap, or in Smith- 
 field ; but it; shall not be in John Mengs's Golden Fleece ; nor 
 will I suffer one guest to go to bed to blink out of the reckon- 
 ing, and so cheat me and all the rest of my company." 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 22S 
 
 ,, ; Philipson looked round, to gather the sentimeiits' of the com- 
 pany, but saw no encouragement to appeal to their judgment. 
 Indeed, many of them had little judgment left to appeal fo, and 
 those who paid any attention to the matter at all, were some 
 quiet old soakers, \vho were already beginning to think of the 
 reckonings and were disposed to agree with the host in con- 
 sidering the English merchant as a iiincher,' who was deter- 
 mined to evade payment of what might be drunk after he left 
 the room ; so that : John Mengs: received the applaus6 of the 
 whole company, when he conctoded his triumphant denuncia- 
 tion against Philipson. • ' 
 
 " Yes, sir, you may withdraw if you please ; but, potz ele- 
 ment ! it shall not be for this time to seek for another inn, but 
 to the- courtyard sha,ll you go, and no further, there to make 
 your bed upon the stable litter; and good enough for the man 
 that will needs be the first to break up good company." 
 
 "It is well said, my jovial host," said a rich trader from 
 Ratisbon ; " and here are some six of us — more or less — who 
 will stand, by you to mainta,ir) the good old customs of Ger- 
 many ; and the — umph — laudable and — and praiseworthy rules 
 of the Golden Fleece." 
 
 " Nay, be not angry, sir," said Bhilipson ; '"yourself and 
 your three companions, whom' the good wine has multiplied 
 into six, shall have your own ,way of ordering the matter; and 
 since you will npt permit roe to go- to bed, I trust that you will 
 will take no pffence if I fall asleep in my chair." 
 
 "How. say you? what think you, mine host?" said the citi- 
 zen from Ratisbon ; " may the gentleman, being drunk, as you 
 see he is, since he cannot tell that three and one make six — I 
 say^may he, being drunk, sleep in the elbow-chair?" 
 
 This question introduced a contradiction on- the part of the 
 host, who contended that three and one made four, not six; 
 and this again produced, a retort from the Ratisbon trader. 
 Otiier clamors rose at the same time, and were at length with 
 difHculty silenced by the stanzas of a chorus song of niirth and 
 good fellowship, which the friar, now become somewhat obliv- 
 ious of the, rule pf St. Francis, thundered forth with better good- 
 will than he ever sang a canticle of King David. Under cover of 
 this tumult, Philipson drew himself a little aside, and though 
 he felt it impossible to sleep, as he had proposed, was yet enabled 
 to escape the reproachful glances with which John Mengs dis- 
 tinguished; all tho^e who did not call for wine loudly, and drink 
 it lustily. His thoughts roamed far from the s^tube of the Gold- 
 en Fleece,- and, upon matter very different from that which was 
 discussed around him, when his attention was suddenly re- 
 
226 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 called by a loud and continued knocking on the door of the 
 hostelry. 
 
 " What have \ye here ? " said John Mengs, his nose redden- 
 ing with very indignation ; " who the foul fiend presses on the 
 Golden Fleece at such, an hour, as if he thundered at the door 
 of a bordel ? To the turret window some one — Geoffrey, knave 
 ostler, or thou,- old Timothy, tell the rash man there is no admit- 
 tance into the Golden Fleece save at timeous hours." 
 
 The men went as they were directed, and might be heard in 
 the stitbe vying with each other in the positive denial which 
 they gave to the ill-fated guest, who was pressing for admissitin. 
 They returned, however,' to inform their master, that they were 
 unable to overcome the obstinacy of the stranger, who refused 
 positively to depart until he had an interview with Mengs himself. 
 
 Wroth was the master of the Golden Fleece at this ill-omened 
 pertinacity, and his indignation extended, like a fiery exhalation, 
 from his nose, all over the adjacent regions of his cheeks and 
 brow. He started from his chair, grasped in his handa stout 
 stick, which seemed his ordinary sceptre or leading staff of 
 command, and muttering something concerning cudgels for the 
 shoulders of fools, and pitchers of fair or foul water for the 
 drenching of their ears, he marched off to the window which 
 looked into the court, and left his guests nodding, winking, and 
 whispering to each other, in full expectation of hearing the 
 active demonstrations of his wrath. It happened otherwise, 
 however; for, after the exchange of a few indistinct words, 
 they were astonished when they heard the noise of the unbolt- 
 ing and unbarring of the gates of the inii, and presently after 
 the footsteps of men upoh the stairs ; and the landlord enter- 
 ing, with an appearance of clumsy courtesy, prayed those 
 assembled to make room for an honored guest, who came, 
 thought late, to add to their numbers. A tall dark form followed 
 mufHed in a traveling cloak ; on laying aside which, Philip- 
 son at once recognized his late fellow-traveler, the Black Priest 
 of St. Paul's. 
 
 There was in the circumstance itself nothing at all surpris- 
 ing, since it was natural that a ' landlord, however coarse and 
 insolent to ordinary guests^ might yet show deference to an ec- 
 clesiastic, whether from his rank in Church, or from his reputa- 
 tion for sanctity. But what did appear surprising to Philipson, 
 was the effect produced by the entrance of this unexpected 
 guest. He seated himself, without hesitation, at the highest 
 place of the board, from which John Mengs had dethroned the 
 aforesaid trader from Ratisbon, notwithstanding his zeal for 
 ancient German customs, his steady adherence and loyalty to 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 227 
 
 the Golden Fleece, and his propensity to brimming goblets. The 
 priest took instant and unscrupulous .possession of his' seat of 
 honor, after some negligent reply to the host's unwonted courtesy.; 
 when it seemed that the effect' of his long black vestments, in place 
 of the slashed and flounced coat of his predecessor, as well as of - 
 the cold gray eye with which haslbwly reviewed the company, in 
 some degree resembled that of the fabulous Gorgon, and if it 
 did not literally convert those who looked upon it into stone, 
 there was yet. something petrifying in the steady unmoved glance 
 with which he seemed to survey them, looking as if desirous of 
 reading their very inmost souls, and passing from one to another, 
 as if each upon whom he looked in succession, was unworthy 
 of. longer consideration. 
 
 Philipson felt, in his turn, that momentary examination, in 
 which, however, there mingled nothing that seemed to convey 
 recognition. All the courage and Composure of the English- 
 man could not prevent an unpleasant feeling while under this 
 mysterious man's eye, so that he felt a relief when it passed 
 from him and rested upon upon another of the company, who 
 seemed in turn to acknowledge the chilling effects of that freezing 
 glance. The noise of intoxicated mirth and drunken disputa- 
 tion, the clamorous argument, and the still more boisterous 
 laugh, which had been suspended on the priest's entering the 
 eating apartment, now, after one ortwo vain attempts to resume 
 them, died away, as if the feast had been changed to a funeral, 
 and the jovial guests had been at once converted into the lugubri^ 
 ous mutes who attend on such solemnities. One little rosy-faced 
 man, who afterward proved to be a tailor from Augsburg, ambiti- 
 ous, perhaps, of showing a degree of courage not usually supposed 
 consistent with his effeminate trade, made a bold effort ; and 
 yet it was with a timid and restrained vpice, that he called on 
 the jovial friar to renew his song. But whether it was that he 
 did not dare to venture on an uncanonical pastime in presence 
 of a brother in orders, or whether he had some other reason for 
 declining the invitation, the merry churchman hung his head, 
 and shook it with such an expressive air of melancholy, that 
 the tailor drew back as ifihe had been detected in cabbaging 
 from a cardinal's robes, or cribbing the lace of some cope or 
 altar gown. In short, the revel was hushed into deep silence, 
 and so attentive were the company to what should arrive next, 
 that the bells, of the village church, striking the first hour after 
 midnight, made the guests start as if they heard them rung 
 backward, to announce an assault or conflagration. The Black' 
 Priest, who had taken some slight and hasty repast, which the 
 host had made no kind of objection to supplying him with, 
 
228 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 seemed to think the bells, which anijounced the service of lauds, 
 being the first after midnight, a proper signal for breaking up 
 the party. 
 
 " We have eaten," he said, " that we may support life ; let 
 us pray that. we may be fit to meet death ; which waits upon 
 life as surely as night upon day, or the shadow upon the sun- 
 beam, though we know not when or from whence it is to come 
 upon us." / 
 
 The company, as if ijiechanically, bent theiri uncovered heads 
 while the priest said, with his deep and solemn voice, a Latin 
 prayer, expressing thanks to God for protection throughout the 
 day, and entreating for its continuance during the witching 
 hours which were to pass ere the day again commenced. The 
 hearers bowed their heads in token of acquiescence in the holy 
 petition ; ^and,. when they raised them, the Black Priest of St. 
 Paul's had followed the host out of the apartment, probably to 
 that which was destined for his repose. His absence was no 
 sooner perceived, than signs, and nods, and even v/hispers, 
 were exchanged between the guests ; but no one spoke above 
 his breath, or in such connected manner, as that Philipson could 
 understand anything distinctly from them. He liimself ven- 
 tured to ask the friar, who sat near him, observing at the same 
 time the under-tone which seemed to be fashionable for the 
 moment, whether the worthy ecclesiastic who had left them, 
 was not the Priest of St. Paul's on the frontier town of La 
 Ferette. 
 
 " And if you know it is he," said the friar, with a counte- 
 nance and. a tone, from which all signs of intoxication were 
 suddenly banished, " why sdo you ask: of me ■? " 
 
 " Because," said the merchant, " I would willingly learn the 
 spell which so suddenly converted so many merry tipplers into 
 men of sober manners, and a jovial company, into a convent of 
 Carthusian friars ? " 
 
 " Friend,", said the friar, " thy discourse savoreth mightily 
 of asking' after what thou! kno west right well. But I am no 
 such silly duck as to be taken by a decoy.. If thou knowest the 
 Black Priest, thou canst not be ignorant' of the terrors which 
 attend his presence, and that it were safer to pass a broad jest 
 in the holy House of Loretto, than where he shows himself." 
 
 So saying, and as if desirous of avoiding further discourse, 
 he withdrew to a distance from Philipson. 
 
 At the same moment the landlord again appeared, and, with 
 more of the usual manners of a publican than he had hitherto 
 exhibitedy ■ commanded his waiter, Geoffrey, to hand- round to 
 the company a sleeping drink, or pillow-cup of distilled water, 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 229 
 
 mingled with spices, which was indeed as good as Philipsan 
 himself had ever tasted. John Mengs, in tlie meanwhile, with 
 somewhat of more deference, expressed to his guests a hope 
 that his entertainment had given satisfaction ; but this was in 
 so careless a manner, and he seemed so conscious of deserving 
 the affirmative which was expressed on all hands, that it be- 
 came obvious there was very little humility in proposing the 
 question. The bid man, Timothy, was in the meantime mus- 
 tering the guests, and marking with chalk on the bottom of a 
 trencher the reckoning, the particulars of which were indicated 
 by certain conventional hieroglyphics, while he showed on 
 another the division of the sum total among the company, arid 
 proceeded to collect an equal share of it from each. When 
 the fatal trencher,, in which each man paid down his money 
 approached the jolly friar, his countenance seemed to be some- 
 what changed.. He cast a piteous look toward Philipson, as 
 the person from whom he had the most hope of relief. ; and our 
 merchant, though displeased with the manner in which he had 
 held back from his confidence, yet not unwilling in a strange 
 country to incur a little expense, in the hope of making a useful 
 acquaintance, discharged the mendicant's score ^s well as his own. 
 The poor friar paid his thanks in many a blessing in good German 
 and bad Latin, but the host cut them short ; for; approaching 
 Philipson with a candle in his hand, he offered his own services 
 to show him where he might sleep, and even had the condescen- 
 sion to carry his Mail, or portmanteau, with his, own landlordly 
 hands. 
 
 " You take too much trouble, mine host," said the merchant, 
 somewhat surprised at the change in the manner of John 
 Mengs, who had hitherto contradicted him at every word. 
 
 " I cannot take too much pains for a guest," was the reply, 
 "whom my venerable friend, the Priest of St. Paul's, hath 
 especially recommended to my charge." 
 
 He then opened the door of a small bedroom, prepared for 
 the occupatipn of a guest, and said to Philipson, — " Here you 
 may re'st till-morrow at wliat hodr you will, and for as many 
 days more as you incline. .The key will secure your wares 
 against theft or pillage of any kind. I do not this for every 
 one ; for, if my guests were every one to have a bed to himself, 
 the next thing they would demand might be a separate table ; 
 and then there would be an end: of the good old German 
 customs, and we should be as foppish and frivolous as our 
 neighbors." 
 
 He placed the portmanteau on the floor, and seemed aboat 
 
ajo 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 to leave the apartment, when, turning about, he began a sort of 
 apology for the rudeness of his former behavior. 
 
 " I trust there is no misunderstanding between us, my 
 worthy guest. You might as well expect to see one of our 
 bears come aloft and do tricks like a jackanapes, as one of us 
 stubborn old Germans play the feats of a French or an Italian 
 host. Yet I pray you' to note, that if our behavior is rude our 
 cliarges are honesty and our articles what they profess to be. 
 We do not expect to make Moselle pass for Rhenish, by dint 
 of a bow and a grin, nor will we sauce your mess with poison, 
 like the wily Italian, and call you all the time lUustrissimo and 
 Magnifico." 
 
 He seemed in thesC' words to have exhausted his rhetoric, 
 for when they were spoken, he turned . abruptly and left the 
 apartment. 
 
 Philipson was thus deprived of another opportunity to inquire 
 who or what this ecclesiastic could be, that had exercised such 
 influence on all who approached him. He felt, indeed, no 
 desire to prolong a conference with John Mengs, though he had 
 laid aside in such a considerable degree his rude and repulsive 
 manners; yet he longed to' know who this man could be, who 
 had power with a word to turn aside the daggers of Alsatian 
 banditti, habituated as they were, like most borderers, to 
 robbery and pillage, and to change into civility the proverbial 
 rudeness of a German innkeeper. Such were the reflections 
 of Philipson, as he doffed his clothes to take his much-needed 
 repose, after a day of fatigue, danger, and difficulty, on the 
 pallet afforded by the hospitality 'of the Golden Fleece in the 
 Rhein-Thal. 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTIETH. 
 
 Macbeth. — How now, ye secret, black, and midnight hags. 
 What is't ye do ? 
 
 Witches. — A deed without a name. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 We have said in the conclusion of the last chapter, that, 
 after a day of unwonted^ fatigue and extraordinary excitation, 
 the merchant, Philipson, naturally expected to forget so many 
 agitating passages in that deep and profound repose, which it 
 .ftt once the consequence and the cure of extreme exhaustion. 
 Bnt he waS no sooner laid on his lowly pallet, than he felt that 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 33 1 
 
 the bodily machine, over-labored by so much exercise, was 
 little disposed to the charms of sleep. The mind had been too 
 much excited, the body was far too feverish, to suffer him to 
 partake of needful rest. His anxiety about the safety of his son, 
 his conjectures concerning the issue of his mission to thfrDuke 
 of Burgundy, and a thousand other thoughts which recalled 
 past events, or speculated on those which were to come, rushed 
 upon his mind like the waves of a perturbed sea, and prevented 
 ail tendency to repose. He had been in bed about an hour, 
 and sleep had not yet approached his couch, when he felt that 
 the pallet on which he lay was sinking below him, and that he 
 was in the act of descending along with it he knew not whither, 
 The sound of ropes and pulleys was also indistinctly heard, 
 though every caution had been taken to make them run 
 smooth; and the traveler, by feeling around him, became 
 sensible that he and the bed on which he lay had been spread 
 upon a large trap-door which was capable of being let down 
 into the vaults, or apartments beneath. 
 
 Philipson felt fear in circumstances so well qualified to 
 produce it ; for how could he hope a safe termination to an 
 adventure which had begun so strangely ? But his apprehen- 
 sions were those of a brave, ready-witted man, who, even in the 
 extremity of danger, whiehappeafedito surroun4him, preserved 
 his presence of mind. His descent seemed to be cautiously 
 managed, and he held himself in readiness to start to his feet 
 and defend himself, as soon as he should be once more upon 
 firm ground. Although somewhat advanced in years, he was 
 a man of great personal vigor and activity, and unless taken at 
 advantage, which no doubt was at present much to be appre- 
 hended, he was likely to make a formidable defence. His plan 
 of resistance, however, had been Anticipated. He no sooner 
 reached the bottom of the vault, down to which he was low- 
 ered, than two men, who had been waiting there till the opera- 
 tion was completed, laid hands on him from either side, and 
 forcibly preventing him from starting up as he intended, cast a 
 rope over his arms, and made him a prisoner as effectually as 
 when he was in the dungeons of La Ferette. He was obliged, 
 therefore, to remain passive and unresisting, and await the 
 termination of this formidable adventure. Secured as !(ie was, 
 he could only turn his head from one side to the other ; and it 
 was with joy that he at length saw lights' twinkle, but they ap- 
 peared at a, great distance from him.' 
 
 From the irregular manner in which these scattered lights 
 advanced, sometimes keeping a straight line, sometimes mixing 
 and crossing each other, it might be inferred that the subter- 
 
233 
 
 ANNE OF GEIEJiSTEIN. 
 
 ranean vault in which they appeared was of very considerable 
 extent. Their number also increased; and as they, collected 
 more together, Philipfion could perceive that the lights pro- 
 ceeded- from many torches, borne by men muffled in black 
 cloaks, like mourners at a funeral, or the Black Friars of Saint 
 Francis's Order, wearing their cowls drawn over their heads so 
 as to conceal theirfeatures. They appeared anxiously engaged 
 in measuring off a portion of the apartment, and while occu- 
 pied in that employment they sang, in the ancient German 
 language, rhyities more rude than Philipson could well under- 
 stand, but which may be imitated thus : — 
 
 ■» Measurers of good and evil, 
 
 Bring the square, the line, the level, — 
 Rear the altar, dig the trench, 
 Blood both stone and ditch shall drench. 
 Cubits six, from end to end. 
 Must the fatal bench extend, — 
 Cubits six, frotn side to side, 
 Judge and culprit must divide. 
 On the east the court assembles, 
 On the west the accused trembles- 
 Answer, brethren, all and cue 
 Is the ritual rightly done ? 
 
 • A deep chorus seemed to reply to the question. Many 
 voices joined in it, as well of persons already in the subterra- 
 nean vault, as of others who as yet remained without in various 
 galleries and passages which communicated with it, and whom 
 Philipson now presumed to be very numerous. The answer 
 chanted ran as follows : — 
 
 On life and. soul, on bloo^ and-bone, 
 One for all, and all for one, 
 We warrant this is rightly done. 
 
 The original strain was then renewed in the same manner 
 as before— 
 
 : i How wears the night ? — Doth morning shine 
 
 : ; . ; . In early radiance on the Rhine ? 
 
 What music floats upon his tide ? 
 Do birds the tardy morning chide ? 
 ' Brethren, look out from hill and height. 
 And answer true, ho^ wears the night ? 
 
 The answer was returnefii though less loud than at first, 
 and it seemed that those by whom the reply was given were at 
 a much greater distance than before ; yet the words were dis- 
 tinctly heard. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 233 
 
 The night is old; on Rhine's broad breast 
 Glance drowsy stars which long to rest. 
 No beams are twinkling in the east. 
 There is a voice upon the flood, 
 The stern still call of blood for blood; 
 , 'Tis time we listen the behest. 
 
 The chorus replied with many additional voices— 
 
 Up, then, up I When day's at rest, 
 
 'Tis time that such as we are watchers ; 
 
 Rise to judgment, brethren, rise ! 
 
 Vengeance knows not sleepy eyes, 
 He and night are matchers. 
 
 The nature of the verses soon led Philipson to comprehend 
 that he was in presence of the Initiated, or the Wise Men ; 
 names which were applied to the celebrated . Judges of the 
 Secret Tribunal, which continued at that period to subsist in 
 Swabia, Franconia, a;nd other districts ^f the east of Germany, 
 which was called perhaps, from the frightful and frequent 
 occurrence of executions by command of those invisible judges, 
 the Red Land. Philipson had often heard that the seat of a 
 free Count, or Chief of the Secret Tribunal, was secretly insti- 
 tuted even on the left bank of the Rhine, and that it maintained 
 itself in Alsace, with the usual tenacity of those secret societies, 
 though Duke Charles of Burgundy had expressed a desire to 
 discover and discourage its influence so far as was possible, 
 ydthout exposing himself to danger from the thousands of 
 poniards which'that mysterious tribunal could put in activity 
 against his own life ; — am ^wful means of defence, which for a 
 long time rendered it extremely hazardous for the sovereigns of 
 Germany, and even the Emperors themselves, to put down by 
 authority those singular associations. 
 
 So soon as this explanation flashed on the mind of Philipson, 
 it gave some clew to the character and condition of the Black 
 Priest of St. Paul's, Supposing him to be a president, or chief 
 official of the secret association, there was little wonder that he 
 should confide so much in the inviolability of his terrible office,, 
 as to propose vindicating the execution of De Hagenbach ; that 
 his presence should surprise- Bartholomew, whom he had power 
 to have judged and executed upon the spot ; and that his mere 
 appearance at supper on the preceding evening should have 
 appalled the guests'; for though everything about the institu- 
 tion^ its proceedings and its officers, was preserved in as much 
 obscurity as is now practiced in freemasonry, yet the secret 
 was not so absolutely well kept as to prevent certain: individuals 
 from being guessed or hinted at as men initiated and intrusted 
 
2^,4 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 with high authoMty by the Vehme-gericht, or tribunal of the 
 bounds. When such suspicion attached to an individual, his 
 secret power, and supposed acquaintance witli all guilt, however 
 secret, which was committed within the society in which he was 
 conversant, made him at once the dread and haired of every 
 one who looked on him; and he enjoyed a high degree, of 
 personal respect, on the same terms on which it would have 
 been yielded to a powerful enchanter, or a dreaded genie. In 
 conversing with such a person, it was especially necessary to 
 abstain from all questions alluding, however remotely, to the 
 office which he bore in the Secret Tribunal ; and, indeed, to 
 testify the least curiosity upon a subject so solemn and mys- 
 terious was sure to occasion some misfortune to the inquisitive 
 person. " , ' 
 
 AH' these things rushed at once upon the mind of the Eng- 
 Mshman, who felt that he had fallen intQ the hands of an un- 
 sparing tribunal, whose proceedings were so much dreaded by 
 those who resided within the circle of their power, that the 
 friendless stranger must stand a poor chance of receiving 
 justice at their hands, whatever might be his consciousness of 
 innocence. While Philipson made this melancholy reflection, 
 he resolved, at the same time, not to forsake his own cause, 
 but defend himself as he best might ; conscious as he was that 
 these terrible and irresponsible judges were nevertheless gov- 
 erned by certain rules of right and wrong, which formed a 
 check on the rigors of their extraordinary code. 
 
 He lay, therefore, devising the best means of obviating the 
 present danger, while the persons whom he beheld glimmered 
 before him, less like distinct and individual forms than like 
 the phantoms of a fever, or the phantasmagoria with which a 
 disease of the optic nerves has been known to people a sick 
 man's chamber. At length they assembled in the centre of the 
 apartment where they had first appeared, and seemed to arrange 
 themselves into form and order. A great number of black 
 torches were successively lighted, and the scene became dis- 
 tinctly visible. In the centre of the hall, Philipson could now 
 perceive one of the altars which are sometimes to be found in 
 ancient subterranean chapels. But we must pause, in order 
 briefly to describe, not the appearance only, but the nature and 
 constitution, of this terrjble court. 
 
 Behind the altar, which seemed to be the central point, on 
 which all eyes were bent, there were placed in parallel lines 
 two benches covered with black- cloth. Each was occupied by 
 a number of persons, who seemed assembled as judges, but 
 those who held the foremost bench were fewer, and appeared of 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 235 
 
 a rank superior to those who ciipwded the seat most remote 
 lErom the altar. The first seemed to be, all men of some conse- 
 quence,, priests high in .their order, knights or noblemen ; and, 
 notwithstanding an appearance, pf equality which seemed to 
 pervade this singular institution, m^ch more weight was laid 
 upon their opinion, or testimonies. They; were called Free 
 Knights, Counts, or whatever title they might bear, while the 
 inferior class of the judges were .only termed Free and worthy 
 BurgherSf For it must be qbserved, that the Vehnaique Insti- 
 tution,* which was the name that it commonly bore, although 
 its powers consisted in a wide system of espionage, and the 
 tyrannical application of force which acted upon it, was yet (so 
 rude were the ideas of enforcing public law) accounted to confer 
 a privilege on the country in which, it was received, and only 
 freemen were allowed, to experience its influence. Serfs and 
 peasants . could neither have a place among the Free Judges, 
 their assessors, or assistiams ; ,for (there was in this assembly 
 even some idea of trying the culprit by his peers. 
 
 Besides the dignitaries who occupied- the benches, there 
 were others who stood around, and seemed to guard thevariousi 
 entrances to the hall of Judgment, or, standing behind the seats 
 on which their' superiors were ranged, looked prepareci to exer 
 cute their comma,nds. ; These were members of the order, 
 though not of the highest ranks. Schoppen is the name gen- 
 ■ erally. assigned to them, signifying officials, or sergeants of the 
 Vehmique, Court, whose doom they stood sworn Jo enforce, 
 through good report and bad report, against their own nearest 
 and most beloved, as well as in cases of ordinary malefactors. 
 
 The Schoppen, or Scabini, as they were termed in Latin, bad 
 another horrible duty to perform — that, namely, of denouncing; 
 to the tribunal whatever came under , their observation, that! 
 might be construed as an offence falling under its cognizance-; 
 or, in their language, a crime against the Vehme. This duty 
 extended to the judges as well as the assistants, and was to be 
 discharged without respect of persons ; so that, to know, and 
 wilfully concealii the guilt of a mother or brother, inferred, on 
 tbe part of the unfaithful official, the same penalty as if he . 
 himself had committed the crime which his silence screened 
 from punishment. Such an institutio,n could only prevail at, 
 a time when ordinary means of justice were excluded by the 
 
 •The word Wehme, pronounced Vehmey, is of uncertain deriyatipn, 
 but was always used to intimate this inquisitorial and secret Court. The 
 members were termed Wissenden, or IiVitiated, answering to the modern 
 phrase of Illurninati-. , Mr, Palgrave seems inclined to derive the word 
 Vehme from E&e, Lej jpwwi and he is probably right. 
 
236 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 hand of power, and when, in order to bring the guilty to punish- 
 ment, it required all the influence and authority of such a 
 confederacy. In no other country than one exposed to every 
 species of feuddl' tyranny, and deprived of every ordinary mode 
 of obtaining justice or reidress, could such a systerh have taken 
 root and flourished. 
 
 We must now return to the brave Englishman, who, though 
 feeling all the danger he encountered from so treniendoiis.a 
 tribunal, maintained nevertheless a dignified arid unaltered 
 composure. 
 
 The meeting being assembled, a coil of ropes, and a naked 
 sword, the well-known signals and emblems of Vehmique 
 authority, were deposited on the altar ; where the sword, from 
 its being usually straight, with a cross handle, was considered 
 as representing the blessed emblem of Christian Redemption, 
 and the cord as indicating the right of criminal jurisdiction, 
 and capital punishment. Then the President of the meeting, 
 who occupied the centre seat on the foremost bench, arose, and 
 laying his hand on the symbols, pronounced aloijd the formula 
 expressive of the duty tif the tribunal, which all the inferior 
 judges and assistants repeated after him, in deep and hollow 
 murmurs. 
 
 " I swear by the Holy Trinity, to aid and co-bperate, without 
 relaxation, in the things belonging to the Holy Vehme, to defend 
 its doctrines and institutions igainst father and mother, brother 
 and sister, wife and children ; against firfe, water, earth, and air ; 
 against all that the sun enlightens ; against all that the dew 
 moistens ; against all created things of heaven and earth, or the 
 wafers under the earth ; and I swear to give information to this 
 holy judicature, of all that I know to be true, or hear repeated 
 by credible testimony, which, by' the rules of the Holy Vehme, 
 is deserving of animadversion or punishment ; and that I will 
 not cloak, cover, or conceal, such my knowledge, neither for love, 
 friendship, or 'family affection, nor for gold, silver, or precious 
 stones ; neither will I associate with such as are under the sen- 
 tence of this Sacred' Tribunal, by hinting^ to a culprit his danger, 
 or^advising him to escape, or aiding and supplying him with 
 counsel, or means to that effect ; neither will I relieve such cul- 
 prit with fire, clothes, food, or shelter, though my father should 
 ^ require from me a cup of water ih the heat of summer noon, or 
 'my brother should request to sit by my fire in the bitterest cold 
 night of winter :' Apd further, I vow and promise to honor 
 this hply association, and do its behests speedily, faithfully, and 
 firmly, in preference to those of any other tribunal whatsoever 
 — so help me God, and his holy Evangelists." 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 237 
 
 When this oath of office had been taken, the President ad- 
 dressing the assembly, as men who judge in secret, and punish 
 in secret like the Deity, desired them to say, why this " child of 
 the cord" * lay before them bound and helpless ? Art individual 
 rose froni the more rernote bench; and' in- a voice which, though 
 altered and agitated, Philipson conceived that he recognised, 
 declared himself the accuser, as bound by his oath, of the Child 
 of the cord, or prisoner, who lay before them. ' .i / 
 
 "Bring forward the prisoner," said the President,^ "duly 
 secured, as is the order of our secret law- ; but not with such 
 severity as may interrupt his attention to the proceedings of 
 the tribunal, or limit his power of hearing and replying." 
 
 Six of the assistants immediately dragged forward the pallet 
 and platform of boards on which Philipson lay, and advanced 
 it toward the foot of the altar. This done, each unsheathed 
 his dagger; while two of them unloosed the cords by which' the 
 merchant's hands were secured, and admonished him in a 
 whisper, that the slightest attempt to resist or escape, would 
 be the signal to stab him dead. .' . ' • 
 
 " Arise ! " said the President ;■ " listen to the charge to be 
 preferred against-you, and ibelieve you shall in us find judges 
 equally just and inflexible." 
 
 Philipson, carefully avoiding any gesture which might indi- 
 cate a desire to escape, raised his body on thelowerpart of the 
 couch, and; remained seated, clothed as he was in his under-vest 
 and cakfons, or drawers, so as exactly to fac^ the muffled 
 President of theterrible court. Even iri these^ agitating circumT 
 Stances, the mind of the undaunted Englishtrian reitiain'idi un- 
 shaken, and his eyelid did not quiver, nor his heart beat quicker, 
 though he seemed, according to the expression of Scripture, to 
 be a. pilgrim in the, Valley; of the Shadow of Death, beset by 
 numerous snares, and encompass^^ by total darkness, where 
 light was most necessary for safety. 
 
 The Pjesident demanded bis rname,> country, and occupa- 
 tion. ' :'. ■■ 
 
 ■ " John Philipson," was. the reply ; ^' by birth an Englishman, 
 by profession a merchant." • ■ .:,.._ 
 
 ' " Have you ever borne any other name and profession .? " 
 demanded the Judge. 1 ' 
 
 " I have been a soldier, and, like most others, had then- a 
 name by which I was known in war." 
 
 " What was that name -? " >: ,: > 
 
 * The term Strick-kind, or child of the cord, was applied to t^e person 
 accused before these awful a^sembliesi. . ■ ■ 1, , 
 
238 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " I laid it aside when I resigned my sword, and I do not 
 desire again to be known by it. Moreover, I never bore it 
 where your institutions have weight and authority," answered 
 the Englishman. 
 
 " Know you before whom you stand ? " continued the Judge. 
 
 " I may at least guess," replied the merchant. , 
 
 " Tell your guess, then," continued the interrogator. " Say 
 who we are, and wherefore are you before us ?" 
 
 " I believe that I am before the Unknown, or Secret Tribu- 
 nal, which is called Vehme-gericht." 
 
 " Then are you aware," answered the Judge, "that you would 
 be safer if you were suspended by the hair over the Abyss of 
 Schaffhausen, or if you lay below an axe, which a thread of silk 
 alone kept back from the fall. What have you done to deserve 
 such a fate ? " 
 
 "Let those reply by whom I am subjected to it," answered 
 Philipson, with the same composure as before. 
 
 " Speak, accuser," said the President, " to the four quarters 
 of Heaven ! — To the ears of the free judges of this tribunal, and 
 the faithful executors of their doom ! — And to the face of the 
 child of the cord, who denies or conceals his guilt, make good 
 the substance of thine accusation ! " 
 
 " Most dreaded," answered the accuser, addressing the 
 President, " this man hath entered the Sacred Territory, which is 
 called the Red Land, — a stranger under a disguised name and 
 profession. When he was yet on the- eastern side of the Alps, 
 at Turin, in Lombardy, and elsewhere, he at various times 
 spoke of the Holy Tribunal in terms of hatred and contempt, 
 and declared that were he Duke of Burgundy, he would not 
 permit it to extend itself from Westphalia, or Swabia, into his 
 dominions. Also, I charge him, that, nourishing this malev- 
 olent intention against the Holy Tribunal, he who now appears 
 before the bench as child of the cord, has intimated his inten- 
 tion to wait upon the court of the Duke of Burgundy, and use 
 his influence with him, which he boasts will prove effectual t6 
 stir him up to prohibit the meetings of the Holy Vehme in his 
 dominions, and to inflict on their officers, and the executors of 
 their mandates, the punishment due to robbers and assassins." 
 
 " This is a heavy charge, brother ! " said the President of the 
 assembly, when the accuser ceased speaking' — " How do you 
 purpose to make it good ? " 
 
 " According to the tenor of those secret statutes, the perusal 
 of which is prohibited to all but the initia.ted," answered the 
 accuser. 
 
 " It is well," said the President ; " but I ask thee once more, 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 239 
 
 What are those means of proof ? — You speak to holy and to 
 initiated ears." 
 
 " I will prove my charge," said the accuser, " by the confess 
 sion of the party himself; and by my own oath upon the holy 
 emblems of the Secret Judgment — that is, the steel and the 
 cord." 
 
 " It is a legitimate offer of proof," said a member of the , 
 aristocratic bench of the assembly ; " and it much concerns the 
 safety of the system to which we are bound by such deep oaths, 
 a system handed down to us from the most Christian and Holy 
 Roman Emperor, Charlemagne,forthe conversion of the heatheri 
 Saracens, and punishing such.of them as, revolted again to their 
 Pagan practices, that such criminals should be looked to. This 
 Duke Charles of Burgundy hath already crowded his army with 
 foreigners, whom he can easily employ against this Sacred Court, 
 more especially with the English, a fierce insular people, wedded 
 to their own usages, and hating those of every other nation. It is 
 not unknown to us, that the Duke hath already encouraged oppo- 
 sition to the officials of the Tribunaljin more than one part of 
 his German dominions'; and that, in consequence, instead of subr 
 mitting to their doom with reverent resignation, children of the' 
 cord have been found bold enough to resist the executioners of 
 the Vehme, striking, wounding, and even slaying those who have 
 received commission to put them to death. This contumacy 
 must be put an end to ; and if the accused shall be proved to be 
 one of those by whom such doctrines are harbored and incul- 
 cated, I say let the steel and cord do their work on him." 
 
 A general murmur seemed to approve what the speaker had 
 said ; for all were conscious that the power of the Tribunal 
 depended much more on the opinion of its being deeply and 
 firmly rooted in the general system, than upon any regard or 
 esteem for an institution, of which all felt the severity. It 
 followed, that those of the members who enjoj'ed consequence 
 by means of their station in the ranks Of the Vehme, saw the 
 necessity of supporting its terrors by occasional examples of' 
 severe punishment ; and none could-be more 'readily sacrificed, 
 than an unknown and wandering foreigner. All this rushed 
 upon Philipson's mind, but did not prevent his making a steady 
 reply to the accusation. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, " good citizens, burgesses, or by what- 
 ever other name you please to be addressed, know, that in my 
 former days I have stood in as great peril as now, and have 
 never turned my heel to save my life. Cords andidaggers are not 
 calculated to strike terror into those who have seen swords 
 and lances. My answer to the accusation is, that I am an 
 
240 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Englislimab, one of a nation accustomed to yield and to receive 
 open-handed and equal justice dealt forth in the broad light 
 of day. I arti, however, a traveler, who knows that he has no 
 right to oppose the rulesand laws of other nations, because they 
 do not resemble those of his own. But this caution can only 
 be called for in lands, where the system about which we converse 
 is in full force and operation. If we speak of the institutions 
 of Germanjr, being at the time in France or Spain, we may, 
 without offence to the country in which they are current, dispute 
 concerning them, as students debate upon a logical thesis in a 
 university. The accuser objects to me, that at Turin, or else- . 
 where in the north of Italy, I spoke with censure of the institu- 
 tion under which I am now judged. 'I will not deny that I 
 remember something of the kind ; but it was in consequence of 
 the question being in a manner forced upon me by two guests, 
 with whom I chanced to find myself at table. I was much and 
 earnestly solicited foran opinion ere I 'gave onei" 
 
 "And was that opinion," said the presiding Judge, " favor- 
 able or otherwise tO' the Holy and Secret Vehme-gericht ? Let 
 truth rule )'our tongue — remember, life is. short, judgment is 
 eternal ! " 
 
 " I would not save ray life at the expense of a falsehood. 
 My opinion was unfavorable 5 and I expressed myself thus : 
 — No laws or judicial proceedings can be just or commendable,.; 
 which exist and operate by means of a secret combination. ;I 
 said, that justice couldonly live and exist in the bpen air, andi 
 that, when she ceased 'to be public, she degenerated into re-i 
 venge and'hatred. I said that a system, of which your own 
 jurists have said, non f rater afratre, non hsspes a Iwspite^ tutus, 
 was too much adverse to the laws of nature, to •bei connected 
 with or regulated by thofee of religion." 
 
 These words were scarcely uttered, when there burst a mur- 
 mur from the Judges highly unfavorable to the prisoner, — 
 " He blasphemes the Holy Vehme — Let his mouth be closed, 
 for ever ! " • 
 
 "Hear me," said the Englishman, " as you will one day 
 wish to be yourselves heard 1 I say such were my sentiments, 
 and so I exjpressed them — I say also, I had a right to express 
 these opinions, whether sound or erroneous, in. a neutral coum 
 try,' where- this Tribunal neither did, nor could, claim any'ju- 
 risdiction. My sentiments^ are still the same. I would avow 
 them if that sword were at my bosom, or that cord around my 
 throat. But I deny that I have ever spoken against the insti-r 
 tu'tions of your Vehme, in acountry where it had its course, as 
 a national mode 'of' justice. Far more stronglj^, if .possible, do 
 
ANNB OF GEIERSTEIN. 2 41 
 
 I denounce the absurdity of the falsehood, which represents 
 nie, a waiidering foreigner, as commissioned to traffic witli the 
 Duke of Burgundy about such high matters, or to form a con- 
 spiracy for the destruction of a system, to ■Which so many seem 
 warmly attached. I never said such a things and I never 
 thought it." 
 
 " Accuser," said the presiding Judge, " thou hast heard the 
 ■ accused' — What is thy reply ? " 
 
 " The first part of the charge," said the accuser, " he hath 
 confessed in this high presence^ namefly,- that his foul tongue;' 
 hath basely slandered our holy mysteries ; for which he deserves 
 that it should bfc torn' out of his throat. !■ myself, on my oath 
 of office, will aver, as'use and law is, that the rest of the accusa- 
 tion, namely, that which taxes him as having entered into 
 machinations for 'the destruction- of the Vehmique institutions, 
 is as true as those which he has found himself unable to deny." 
 
 " In justice," said the Englishman, " the accusation, if not 
 made-good by satisfactory proofs ought to' be left to the oath of 
 the party accused, instead of permitting the accuser to establish 
 •by'his own deposition the defects in his own^ charge." 
 
 " Stranger," replied the; presiding Judge, " we permit to thy 
 ignorance a longer and more full defence than consists with 
 our usual forms. Know that the right of sitting among these 
 venerable judges confers on the person of him who enjoys it a 
 sacredness of character which ordinary men cannot attain to. 
 The oath of one of the initiated must counterbalance the most 
 solemn asseveration of every one that is not acquainted with 
 .' Our holy secrets. In the Vehmique court all must be Vehmique. 
 The averment of the Jimperor, he being uninitiated, would not 
 have so much weight in our counsels as that of one of the mean- 
 est of these officials. The affirmation of the accuser can only 
 be rebutted by the oath of a member of the same Tribiina), 
 being of superior rank." 
 
 " Tlien, God be gracious- to me, for I have no trust save in 
 Heaven!" said the Englishman in solemn accents. "Yet I 
 will not fall without an 'effort. - I call upon thee, thyself, dark 
 spirit, who presides! in this most deadly assembly — I call upon 
 -thyself, to declare on thy faith and honor, whether thou boldest 
 me guilty of what is thus boldly averred by this false calumnia- 
 tor — I. call upon thee by thy sacred character — by the name 
 
 -of" ■'" ■■■■■■-.■'! ■ ' - , ■: - '■•• 
 
 " Hpld ! " replied the presiding Judge. " The name by 
 W'hich we are known in open air must not be pronounced in 
 this subterraneatj.'judgment-seat.", 
 
 He then proceeded" t'O address the prisoner and the assem- 
 
242 ANNE OP GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 • 
 
 bly, — "I, being,. called on in evidence, declare that the charge 
 against thee is so far true as it is acknowledged by thyself, 
 namely, that thou hast in other lands than the Red Soil,* 
 spoken lightly of this holy institution of justice. But I belieye 
 in my soul, and will bear wittiess on my honor, that the rest 
 of the accusation is incredible and false. And this I swear, 
 holding my hand On the dagger and the coT4.-^What is your 
 judgment, my brethren, upon the case which you have inves- 
 tigated ? " - ~ 
 
 A member of the. first-seated and highest class amoiigst 
 the judges, mufHed like the rest, but the -tone of whose voice, 
 and the stoop of whose person, announced hirn to be more ad- 
 vanced in years than the other two who. had before spoken, 
 arose with difficulty, and said with a trembling, voice, — 
 
 " Th'e child of the cord, who is before us, has been convicted 
 of folly and rashness in slanderifflg our holy institution. But 
 he spoke his folly to ears which had never beard our sacred 
 laws — He has, therefore, been acquitted by irrefragable testi- 
 mony, of combining for the important purpose of undermining 
 our power, or stirring up princes against our holy associatioii, 
 for which death were too light a puriishment — He hath been 
 foolish, then,, but not criminal ; and as the holy laws of the 
 Vehme bear no penalty save that of death, I propose for 
 judgment that the child of the cord be restored without injury 
 to society, and to the upper world, having been first duly ad- 
 monished of his errors." 
 
 "Child of the cord," said the presiding Judge, " thou hast 
 heard thy sentence of acquittal. But as thou desirest to sleep 
 in an unbloody grave, let me warn thee, that the secrets of this 
 night shall remain with thee, as a secret not to be communicated 
 to father nor mother, to spouse, son, or daughter • neither to be 
 spoken aloud nor whispered ; to be told in words or written in 
 characters ; to be carved or to be painted, or to be otherwise 
 communicated, either directly or by parable and emblem. Obey 
 this behest, and thy life is in surety. Let thy heart then rejoice 
 within thee, but let it rejoice with trembling. Never more let 
 thy vanity persuade thee that thou art secure from .the servants 
 arid Judges of the Holy Vehme. Though a thousand leagues lie 
 between thee and the Red- Land, and thou speakest in that 
 
 * The parts of Germany subjected to the operation o£ the Secret Tri- 
 bunal were called, from theibloodiwhich it spilt, or from some other reason 
 (Mr. Palgrave suggests the ground tincture of the ancient banner of the 
 distrifct) the Red Soil. Westph^li^, as the limits of that country were un- 
 derstood in the middle ages, whicli are consid^ably different from the pres- 
 ent boundarigSi was the prinoiplal theatrfc of the Vfehme, ; 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 243 
 
 where our power is not known ; though thou_shouldst be shel- 
 tered by thy native island, and defended by thy kindred ocean, 
 yet, even there, I warn thee to cross thyself when thou dostso 
 mucli as think of the Holy and Invisible Tribunal, and to retain 
 thy thoughts within thine own bospni ; for the Avenger maybe 
 beside thee, and thou mayst die in thy folly. Go hence, be wise, 
 and let the fear of the Holy Vehme never pass from before thine 
 eyes." 
 
 At the concluding words,, all the lights were at once extin- 
 guished with- a hissing noise. Philipson felt oiice more the 
 grasp of the hands of the officials, to which he resigned himself 
 as the safest coUrse. He was gently prostrated on his pallet- 
 bed, and transported back to the place from which he had been 
 advanced to the foot of the altar. The cordage was again 
 applied to the platform, and Philipson was sensible that his 
 couch rose with him for a few moments, until a slight shock 
 apprised him that he wais again brought to a level with the floor 
 of the chamber in which he. had been lodged on the preceding 
 night, or rather morning. He pondered over the events that 
 had passed, in which he was sensible that he owed Heaven 
 thanks for a great deliverance.. Fatigue ; at length prevailed 
 over anxiety, and hcifell into a deep and'profound sleep, from 
 which he was only awakened by returning light. He resolved 
 on an instant departure from so dangerous a spot, and without 
 seeing any one of the ihousehold but the old ostler, pursued his 
 journey to Strassburg, and reached that city without further 
 accident. 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. 
 
 Away with these ! — True Wisdom's world will be 
 Within its own creation, or in thine, 
 Maternal Nature I for who teems like thee 
 Thus ori the banks' of thy majestic Rhine ? 
 There Harold gazes on a woi^k divine, 
 A blending of all beauties, streams, and dells — 
 Fruit, foliage; crag, wood, cornfield, mountain, vine, 
 And,chiefless castles breathing stern farewells. 
 From gray but leafy walls, where ruin greenly dwells. 
 
 Childe Harold's Filgrimage, Canto III. 
 
 When Arthur Philipson left his father, to go on board the 
 bark which was to waft him across the Rhine, he took but few 
 precautiotis for his own suibsistence, during a separation of which 
 he calculated the duration to be very brief. Some necessary 
 
244 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 change of raiment, and a very few pieces of gold, were all which 
 he thought it needful to withdraw from the general stock ; the 
 rest of the baggage and money he left with the sumpter-horse, 
 which his concluded his father might need, in order to sustain 
 his characteir as an English trader. Having embarked with his 
 horse ahd his slender appointments on board a fishing skiff, she 
 instantly raised her temporary mast, spread a sa:il across the 
 yard, and, supported by the force of the wind against the 
 downward power of the current, moved across the river ob- 
 liquely in the direction of Kirch-hoff, which, as we have said, 
 lies somewhat lower on the river than Hans-Chapelle. Their 
 passage was so favorable, that they reached the opposite side 
 in a few minutes, but not until Arthur, whose eye 'and thoughts 
 were on the left bank, 'had seen his father depart from the 
 Chape] of the Ferry, accompanied by two horsemen, whom he 
 readily concluded to be the guide Bartholomew, and some 
 chance traveler who had joined him ; but the second of whom 
 was in truth: the Blade Priest of St. Paul's, as has been already 
 mentioned; 
 
 This augmentation of his father's compiany was, he could not 
 -but think, likely to be attended with an increase of his safety, 
 since it was not probable he would suffer a companion to be 
 forced upon him, and one of his own choosing might be a protec- 
 tion, in case his guide should prove treacherous. At any rate, 
 he had to rejoice that he had seen his father depart in safety 
 from the spot where they had reason to apprehend some danger 
 awaited him. He resolved, therefore, to make no stay at Kirch- 
 hoff, but to pursue his way, as fast as possible, toward Strass- 
 burg, and rest, when darkness compelled him to stop, in one of 
 the dorffs, or villages, which were situated on the German side 
 of the Rhine. At Strassburg, he. trusted, ■with the sanguine 
 spirit of youth, he might again be able to rejoin his father ; and 
 if he couldfflot altogether suhrdue his anxiety on their separation, 
 he fondly nourished the hope that he might meet him in safety. 
 After some short refreshment aiid repose aflbrded.to his horse, 
 he lost no time in proceeding on his journey down the eastern 
 bank of the broad, river. 
 
 He was now upcsn the most interesting side of the Rhine, 
 walled in and repelled as the river is on that shpre by the most 
 romantic cliffs, now mantled with. vegetation of tlie richest hue, 
 tinged with all the variegated colors of autumn ; now sur- 
 mounted by fortresses, over' whose gates were displayed the 
 pennons of their proud owners ; or studded with hamlets, whete 
 the richness of the soil supplied to the poor laborer the food of 
 which the oppressive hs^nd of his superior threatened altogether 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. . 
 
 24S 
 
 to deprive him. Every stream Which here contributes its waters 
 to the Rhine winds through its own tributary dell, apdi each 
 valley possesses a varying and separate character, some rich 
 with pastures, cornfields, and vineyards, some frowning with 
 crags and precipices, and other romantic beauties. 
 
 The principles of taste were not then explained or analyzed 
 as they have been since, in countries' where leisure has been 
 found for this investigation. But the feelings arisingfrom so rich 
 a landscape as is displayed by the valley of the Rhine, must have 
 been the same in every bosom, from the period when our Eng- 
 lishman took his solitary journey through it, in doubt and danger, 
 till that in which it heard the indignant Childe Harold bid a 
 proud farewell to his native country, in the vain search of a land 
 in which his heart might throb less fiercely. 
 
 Arthurenjoyed the scene, although the fading dayligbtibegan 
 to remind him that, alone as he was, and traveling with a very 
 valuable charge, it would be matter of prudence to look out for 
 some place of rest during the night., Just as he had formed the, 
 resolution of inquiring at the next habitation he passed, which- 
 way he should follow for this purpose, the road he pursued 
 descended into a beautiful amphitheatre filled with large trees, 
 which protected from the heats of summer the delicate and 
 tender herbage of the pasture. A large brook flowed through 
 it and joined the Rhine. At a short mile up the brook, its 
 waters made a crescent round a steep craggy eminence, crowned 
 with flanking walls, and Gothic towers, and turrets enclosing a 
 feudal castle of the first order. A partof the savanna that has, 
 been mentioned had been irregularly cultivated for wheat, whiph 
 had grown a plentiful crop. It was gathered in, but the patqheSj 
 of de2p yellow stubble contrasted with the green/ of the undis- 
 turbed pasture land, and with the seared and dark-red foliage of 
 the broad oaks which stretched their arms athwart the level 
 space. There a lad, in a rustic dress, was employed in the task 
 of netting a Hrood of partridges with the assistance of a traiped 
 spaniel ; while a young woman, who had the air rather of a 
 domestic in some family of rank, than that of an, ordinary 
 villager, sat on the stump of a decayed tree, to watch: the prog- 
 ress of the amusement. The spaniel, whose duty it was to 
 drive the p'artridges under the net, was perceptibly disturbed at 
 the approach of the traveler ; his attention was divided, and he 
 was obviously in danger of marring the sport, by barlting and 
 putting up the covey, when the maiden quitted her seat, and 
 advancing toward Philipson, requested him for courtesy to pass 
 at a greater distance, arid not interfere with their amusement.; . 
 
 The traveler willingly coniplied with her request. 
 
246 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " I will ride, fair damsel, " he said " at whatever distance 
 ypu please. And allow me, in guerdon, to ask, whether there 
 is convent, castle, or good man's house, where a stranger, who 
 is belated ahd weary, might receive a night's hospitality ? " 
 
 The girl, whose face he had not yet distinctly seen, seemed 
 to suppress some desire to laugh, as she replied, " Hath not 
 yon casde, think you," pointing to the distant towers, " some 
 corner which might accommodate a stranger in such ex- 
 tremity?" ■ •' 
 
 "Space enough, certainly," said Arthur; "but perhaps 
 little inclination to grant it." 
 
 " I myself," said the girl, " being one, and a formidable 
 part of the garrison, will be answerable for your reception. 
 But as you parley with me in such hostile fashion, it is accord- 
 ing to martial order that I should put down my visor." 
 
 So saying, she concealed her face under one of those riding 
 masks, which at that period women often wore when they went 
 abroad, whether for protecting their complexion, or screening 
 themselves from intrusive observation. But ere she could ac- 
 complish this operation, Arthur had detected the merry coun- 
 tenance of Annette' Veilchen, a girr who, though her attend- 
 ance on Anne of Geierstein was in a menial capacity, was held 
 in high estimation at Geierstein. She was a bold wench, un- 
 accustomed to the distinctions of rank, which were little re- 
 garded in the simplicity of the Helvetian hills, and she was 
 ready to laugh, jest, and -flirt with the young men of the Lan- 
 damman's family. This attracted no attention, the mountain 
 mariners making little -distinction between the degrees of at- 
 tendant and mistress, further than that the mistress was a 
 , yoiing woman who required he'lp, and the maiden one who was 
 in a, situation to offer and afford it. This kind of familiarity 
 would perhaps have been dangerous in other lands, but the 
 simplicity of Swiss manners, and the turn of Annette's disposi- 
 tion, which was resolute and sensible, though rather bold and 
 free, when compared to the manners of more civilized countries, 
 kept all intercourse betwixt her and the young men of the 
 family in the strict path of honor and innocence. 
 
 Arthur himself had paid considerable attention to Annette, 
 being naturally; from his feelings toward Anne of Geierstein, 
 heartily desirous to possess the good graces of her attendant ; 
 a point which was easily gained by the attentions of a hand- 
 some young man, and the generosity with which he heaped 
 upon her small presents of articles of dress or ornament, which 
 the damsel, however faithful, could find no heart to refuse. 
 
 The assurance that he was in Anne's neighborhood, and 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 247 
 
 that he was likely to pass the night under the same roof, both 
 of which circumstances were intimated by the girl's presence 
 and language, sent the blood in a hastier current thrtugh 
 Arthur's veins; for though, since he had crossed the river, 'he 
 had sometimes nourished hopes of again seeing her who had 
 made so strong an impression on his imaginatiori, yet his un- 
 derstanding had as often told him how slight was the chance of 
 their meeting, and it was even now chilled by the reflection, 
 that it coul-d be fbllowed only by the pain of a sudden and 
 final separation. He yielded himself, however, to the prospect 
 of promised pleasure, without attempting, to ascertain what was 
 to be its duration or its conseiquence. Desirous, in the mean- 
 time, to hear as much of Anne's circumstances as Annette 
 chose to tell, he resolved not to let that merry maiden perceive 
 that she was known by him, until she: chose of her own accord 
 to lay aside her mystery. 
 
 While these thoughts passed rapidly through his imagina- 
 tion, Annette bade- the lad drop his nets, and directed him 
 that, having taken two- of the best fed partridges from the 
 covey, an4 carried them into the kitchen, he was to set the rest 
 at libarty. 
 
 " I must provide supper," said she to the traveler, " since I 
 am bringing home unexpected company." 
 
 Arthur. earnestly expressed his h(3pe that his experiencing 
 the hospitality of the castle would occasion no trouble to the 
 inmates,, and received satisfactory assurances upon the subject 
 of his scruples. 
 
 "I would not willingly be the cause of inconvenience to 
 your mistress," pursued the traveler. 
 
 " Look you there," said Annette Veilchen, " I have said 
 nothing of master or mistress, and this poor forlorn traveler 
 has already concluded in his own mind that he is to be har- 
 bored in a lady's bower ! " 
 
 "Why, did you not tell me," said Arthur, somewhat con- 
 fused at his blunder, "that you were the person of second im- 
 portance in the place ? A damsel, I Judged, could only be an 
 officer under a female governor." 
 
 " I do not see the justness of the conclusion," replied the 
 maiden. " I have known ladies bear offices of trust in lords' 
 families ; nay, and over the lords themselves." 
 
 " Am I to understand, fair damsel, that you hold so pre- 
 dominant a situation in the castle which we are now approach- 
 ing, and of which I pray you to tell me the name ? " 
 
 " The name of the castle is. Arnheim," said Annette. ■ 
 
 " Youf garrison must be a large one," said Arthur, looking 
 
2^8 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 at the extensive buildingj " if you are able to man such a laBy- 
 rinth of walls and towers." , 
 
 " In that point," said Annette, " I must needs own we are 
 very deficient. At present we rather hide in the castle than 
 inhabit it ; and yet it is well enough defended- by the reports 
 which frighten .every other person who might disturb its 
 seclusion." 
 
 ," And yet you yourselves dare to reside in it?" said the 
 Englishman, recollecting the tale which had been told by Ru- 
 : dolph Donnerhugel, concerning the character of the Barons of 
 Arnheim, and the final catastrophe of the family. 
 
 " Perhaps," replied his guide, "we are to intimate with the 
 cause of such fears to feel ourselves strongly oppressed with 
 them — perhaps we ihave means of encountering the supposed 
 terrors proper to iurselves — perhaps, and itas' not the least 
 likely conjecture, we have no choice of a better place of refuge. 
 Such seems tftbe your own fite at present, sir, for the tops of 
 the distant hills are gradually losing the lights of the evening; 
 and if you rest not in Arnheim, well contented or not, you are 
 lijcely, to find no safe lodging for many a mile." . 
 
 As she thus spoke she separated from Arthur, taking, with 
 the fowler who attended her, a very steep but short footpath, 
 which ascended straight up to tlue site of the castle ; at the 
 same time motioning to the young Englishman ■• to follow a 
 horse-track, whiehj more circuitous, led to the' same point, and, 
 though less, direct, was considerably more easy. 
 
 He soon stood before the south front of Arnheim Castle, 
 which was a much larger building than he had conceived, either 
 from Rudolph's description, or from the distant view. It had 
 been erected at many different periods, and a considerable part 
 of the edifice was less :in the ■ strict Gothic than in what has 
 been termed the Saracenic style, in which the imagination of 
 the architect is more florid than that which is usually indulged 
 in the North,— rich in minarets, cuoolas, and similar approxi- 
 mations to Oriental structures. This singular building bore a 
 general appearance of desolation and desertion, but Rudolph 
 had been misinformed when he declared that it had become 
 ruinous. - On the contrary, it had been maintained with con- 
 sideTable care ; and when it feU into the hands of the Emperor, 
 although no garrison was maintained within its pwecincts, care 
 v/as taken to keep the building in repair ; and though the pre- 
 jadices of the country people prevented any one frorti passing 
 the night within the fearful walls, yet it was regularly visited 
 from time to time by a person having commission from the im- 
 perial chancery to that effect. The occupation of the dolhaia 
 
AK-NE OF GEIERSTEIN: 249 
 
 around the castle was a valuable compensation for this official 
 person's labor, and he took care not to endangjsr the loss of it 
 by neglecting his duty. Of late this ofHcer had been withdrawn, 
 and now it appeared that the young Baroness of Arnheim had 
 found refuge in the deserted towers of her, ancestors. 
 
 The Swiss damsel did not lea<\je the youtliful traveler time 
 to study particularly the exterior of the castle, or to construe 
 the meaning of emblems and mottoes, seemingly of an Oriental 
 character, with which the outride was inscribed, and which 
 expressed in various modes, more or less directly, the attach- 
 ment of the builders of this extensive pile, tp thC; learning of 
 the eastern sageSi. Ere he had time tp take more than a general 
 survey of the . places the voice of the Swiss maiden called him 
 to an angle of the wall in which there was a projection, fronx 
 Tjfhence a long plank extended over a dry mpat, and was con- 
 nected with a window in which Annette was standing. , 
 
 " You have forgotte,n your Swiss lessons already," said- she, 
 observing that Arthur went rather timidly about, crossing the 
 temporary and precarious draiwb ridge. 
 
 The reflection that Anne, her mistress, might make the same 
 observation, recalled the, young traveler to the ,neces§.ary degree 
 of composure. He passed over the plank with the same sang, 
 f mid with which, he had learwed to brave the far more terrific 
 bridge,! beneath -the ruinous. Gastle of Geierstein. He had no 
 sooner entered the window than Anijettej taking off her; mask, 
 bade him welcome tos Germany, and tol old friends with new 
 names. 
 
 " Anne of Geierstein," she said, " is ho more ; but you will 
 presently see, the Lady Baroness of Arnheim, who is extremely 
 like her ; and I, who was Annette Veilchien in Switzerland, the 
 servant to a damsel who was not esteemed much greater than 
 myself, am now the young Baroiiess's waiting woman, and 
 make everybody of less quality stand back." 
 
 " If, in such circumstances,'^ said young Philipso^,' " you 
 have,, the influence due to your consequence, let me beseech 
 of you to tell the Baroness, since, we must now call her so, 
 that 'my present intrusion on her is occasioned by my igno- 
 rance." i 
 
 " AVay, away," said the girl laughing, " I know better what 
 to say in your behalf. Ypu, are not the first poor man and 
 pedler that has got thS' graces of a great, lady ;;but I warrant 
 you it was not by making humble apologies, and talking of un- 
 intentional intrusion. I will tell her of love, which all the 
 Rhine cannot quench, and which has driven you hither, leaving 
 you no other choice than to come or to perish ! " : . 
 
Z50 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " Nay, but Annette, Annette "- 
 
 ' Fie on you for a fool, — make a shorter name of it, — cry 
 Anne, Anne ! and there will be more prospect of your being 
 answered." 
 
 So saying, the wild girl ran out of the room, delighted, as 
 a mountahieer of her description was likely to be, with the 
 thought of having done as she would desire to be done by, in 
 her benevolent exertions to bring two lovers together, when on 
 the eve of inevitable separation. 
 
 In this self-approving disposition, Annette sped up a narrow 
 turnpike stair to a closet, or dressing-room, whfere her ydung 
 mistress was seated, and exclaimed, with open mouth, — "Anne 
 
 of Gei , I mean my Lady Baroness, they are cortie — they 
 
 • are come! " • 
 
 " The Philipsons ? " said Anne, almost biieathless as she 
 asked the question. 
 
 " Yes^no — " answered the girl ; " that is, yes, — ^for the best 
 of them is come, and that is Arthur." 
 
 " What meanest thou, girl "i Is not Seignor Philipson, the 
 father, along with his son ? " ' 
 
 " Not he, indeed," answered Veilchen, " nor did I ever think 
 of asking about him. He was no friend of mine, nor of any 
 one else, save the old Landamnian ; and well met they were 
 for a couple of wiseacres, with eternal proverbs in their mouths, 
 and care Upon their brows." 
 
 " Unkind, inconsiderate girl, what hast thoii done ? " said 
 Anne of Geierstein. " Did I not warn and charge thee to bring 
 them both hither? and you have brought the young man alone 
 to a place where we are nearly in solitude ? What will he — 
 what can he think of me ? " 
 
 " Why, what shouM I have done ? " said Annette, remaining 
 firm in her argument. " He was alone, and should I have sent 
 him down to the dorflE to be murdered by the Rbinegrave'S 
 Lanz-knechts ? All is fish, I trow, that comes to their net ; and 
 how is he to get through this country, so beset with wandering 
 soldiers, robber barons (I' beg youf la'dyship's pardon), and 
 roguish Italians, flocking to the Duke of Burgundy's standard ? 
 — Not to mention the greatest terror of all, that is never in one 
 shape or other absent from one's £yes or thought." 
 
 " Hush, hush, girl ! add not utter madness to the excess of 
 folly; but let us think what is to be done. For our sake, for 
 his own, this unfortunate young man must leave this castle 
 instantly." 
 
 "You must take the message yourself then, Anne — I beg 
 pardon, most noble Baroness ; — it may be very fit for a lady of 
 
AN'NE OF CEIERSTEIN. 251 
 
 high birth to send such a message, which, indeed, I have heard 
 the minneTsingers tell in their romances ; but I am sure it is 
 not a meet one for me, or any frank-hearted Swiss girl, to 
 carry. No more foolery ; but remember, if you were born Baron- 
 ess of Arnheim, you have been bred and brougiit up in the 
 bosom of the Swiss hills, and should conduct yourself like an 
 honest and well-meaning damsel." 
 
 " And in what does your wisdom reprehend my folly, good 
 Mademoiselle Annette ? " replied the Baroness. , 
 
 " Ah, marry !, now our noble blood stirs in our veins. But 
 remember, gentle my lady, that it was a bargain between us 
 when I left yonder noble mountains, and the free air that blows 
 over thenx, to coop rpyself up in this land: of prisons andi slaves, 
 that I should speak my mind to you as freely as. I did when our 
 heads lay on the same pillow." 
 
 "Speak, then,'' said Anne, studiously. averting heriface as 
 she prepared to listen ; " but beware that you say nothing 
 which it is unfit for me to hear." 
 
 " I will speak nature and common sense ; and if your noble 
 ears are not made fit to hear and understand these, the fault lies 
 in them, and not in i my tongue. Look you, you have saved 
 this youth from two great dangers, — one at the earth-shoot at 
 Geierstein, the other this very day, when his life was beset. 
 A handsome young man he is, well spoken, and well qualified 
 to. gain deservedly a lady's favor. Before you saw him, the 
 Swiss youth were at least not odious to you. You danced with 
 them, — you jested with them, — you were the general object of 
 their admiration, — and, as you well know, you might have had 
 your choice through the Canton — Why, I think it possible a 
 little urgency might have brought you to think of Rudolph 
 Donnerhugel as your mate." 
 
 " Never^ wench, never ! " exclaimed AnnCi 
 
 " Be not so very positive, my lady. Had he recommended 
 himself to the uncle in the first place, I think,^in my poor senti- 
 ment, he might at some lucky moment have, carried 'the niece. 
 But since we have known this young Englishman, it has been 
 little less than contemning, despising, and something like hating, 
 all the men whom you could endure well enough before." 
 
 " Wellj well,." said Anne, " I will detest and hate thee more 
 than any of them, unless you bring your matters to an end." 
 
 " Softly, noble lady, fair and easy go far. All this argues 
 you love the young man, and let those say that you are wrong, 
 who think there is anything wonderful in the matter. There 
 is much to justify you; and nothing that I know against it." 
 
 " What, foolish girl 1 Remember my birth forbids me to love 
 
252 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 a mean man — my condition to love a poor man — my father's 
 commands to love one whose addresses are without his consent 
 . — above all, my maidenly pride forbids me fixing my affections 
 on one who cares not for me, — nay, perhaps, is prejudiced 
 against me by appearances." i 
 
 " Here is a fine homily ! " said Annette ; " but I can clear 
 every point of it as easily as Father Francis does his text in a 
 holiday sermon. Your birth is a silly dream, which you have 
 only learned to value within these two or three days, when, 
 having come to German soil,' some of the old German weed, 
 usually called family pride, has begun tO' germinate in your 
 heart. Think of such folly as you thought when you lived at 
 Geiefstein, that is, during all the rational part of your life, and 
 this great terrible prejudice will sink into nothing. By con- 
 dition, I conceive you mean estate. But Philipson's father, who 
 is the most free-iiearted of men, will surely give his son as 
 many zechins as will stock a mountain farm. You have fire- 
 wood for the cutting, and land for the occupying, since you are 
 surely entitled to part of Geierstein, andgladly will your uncle 
 put you in possession of it. You can manage the dairy, Arthur 
 can shoot, hunt, fish, plough, harrow, and reap." 
 
 Anne of Geierstein: shook her head, as if she greatly doubted 
 her lover's skill in the last of the accomplishments enumerated; 
 
 " Well, well, he can learn, then," said Annette Veilchen ; 
 "and you will only live the harder the first year or so. Be- 
 sides, Sigismund Biederman will aid him willingly, and he is a 
 very horse at labor; and I know another besides, who is a 
 friend' "- 
 
 " Of thine own, I warrant," quoth the young Baroness. 
 
 " Marry, it is my poor friend Martin Sprenger; and- I'll 
 never be so false-hearted as to deny my bachelor." 
 
 " Well, well, but what is to be the end of all this ? " said the 
 Baroness, impatiently. 
 
 " The end of it, in my opinion," said Annette,- " is very 
 simple. Here are priests and;prayer-books within a mile — go 
 down to the parlor, speak your mind to your lover, or hear him 
 speak his mind to you * join hands, go quietly back to Geierstein 
 in the character of man and wife, and get everything ready to 
 receive your uncle on his return. This is the W'ay that a plain 
 Swiss wench would cut oil the romance of a German Baioiu- 
 ess " 
 
 " And break the heart of her father," said the young lady, 
 jsrith a sigh. 
 
 "It is more tough tlianyou are aware of," replied Annette; 
 " he hath not lived without you so long but that he will be 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 253 
 
 able to spare you for the rest of. his life a great deal more easily 
 than you, with all your new-fangled ideas of quality, will Be 
 able to endure his schemes of wealth and ambition, which 
 will aim at making you the wife of some illustrious Count, like 
 De ^Hagenbach, whortj we saw not long since make such an 
 edifying end, to the great example of all Robber-Chivalry upon 
 the Rhine." 
 
 " Thy plan is naught, wench ; a childish vision of a girl, 
 who never knew more of life than she has heard told over her 
 milking-paili, Remember that my uncle entertains the highest 
 ideas of >f amily discipline,! and that, to act contrary to my father's 
 will, would destroy us in his good opinion. Why else am I here ? 
 wherefore ! has ' he resigned his guardianship? and why am I 
 obliged to changeithe habits that are dear to me, and assume 
 the manners of a people that are strange, and therefore un- 
 pleasing to me ? " 
 
 ■ " Your uncle," said Annette, firmly, "is Landamman of the 
 Canton of Unterwalden ; respects its freedom, and, is the sworn 
 protector of its laws, of which, when, you, a denizen. of the Con- 
 federacy, claim the, protection, he cannot refuse it to you." 
 
 " Even then," said the young Baroness, " I should forfeit his 
 good opinion, his more thanpaternal affection ; but it is needless 
 to dwell upon this. Know, that, although 1 could have loved the 
 young, man, whom.Iwill not deny to be as amiable as your par- 
 tiality paints him — Know," — she hesitated for a ijnoment, — 
 " that he has never spoken a word to me on such a, subject as 
 you, without knowiiig either his sentiments or mine, would, in- 
 trude on my consideration." 
 
 " Is it possible .? " answered Annette. " I thought — I be> 
 lieved, though JJiave never pressed, on your confidenge — that 
 you must — attached as you were to each other — have spoken 
 together, like true maid and true bachelor, before now. I have 
 done wrong, when I thought to do for the best. — Is it possible ■! 
 —such things have been heard of even in our Canton — is it 
 possible he can have harbored, so unutterably base purposes, as 
 that Martin of Breisach, who made love to Adela of the Sondr 
 gau, enticedther to folly — the' thing,, though almost incredible, 
 is true, — fled — fled from the country andboasted of his villainy, 
 till her'cousin Raymond silenced forever his infamous triumph, 
 by beating his brains out with his club, even in the very, street 
 of the villain's native town ? By the Holy Mother of Einsied- 
 len ! could I suspect this Englishman of meditating such treason, 
 I would saw the plank across the moat till a fly's weight would 
 break it, and it should be at six fathom deep that he shoul<i 
 
254 
 
 ANNE OF GEIRRSTEIN. 
 
 abye the perfidy which dared to meditate dishonor against an 
 adopted daughter of Switzerland." 
 
 As Annette Veilchen, spoke, all the fire of her mountain 
 courage flashed from her eyes, and she listened- reluctantly 
 while Afine of Geierstein endeavored to obliterate the danger- 
 ous impression which her former words had impressed on her 
 simple but faithful attendant. 
 
 " On my word " — she said, " on my soul — you do Arthur 
 Philipson injustice — foul injustice, in intimating such a suspic- 
 ion ; — his conduct toward me has ever been upright and hon- 
 orable — a friend to a friend — a brother to a sister — could not, 
 in all he has done and said, have been more respectful, more 
 anxiously affectionate, more undeviatingly candid. In our fre- 
 quent interviews and intercourse he has indeed seemed very 
 kind — very iattached. But had I been disposed — at times I 
 may have been too much so — to listen to him with endurance," 
 — the young lady here put her hand on her forehead, but the 
 tears streamed through her slender fingers, — " he has never 
 spoken of any love — any preference ; if he indeed entertains 
 any, some obstacle, insurmountable on his part, has interfered 
 to prevent him." 
 
 " Obstacle ! " replied the Swiss damsel. " Ay, doubtless — 
 some childish bashfulness — some foolish idea about your birth 
 being so high above his own — some dream of modesty pushed 
 to extremity which considers as impenetrable the ice of a spring 
 frost. This delusion may be broken by a moment's encouTage- 
 ment, and I will take the task on myself to spare your blushes, 
 my dearest Anne." 
 
 "No, no; for heaven's sake, no, Veilchen ! " answered the 
 Baroness, to whom Annette had so long been a companion and 
 confident, rather than a domestic. "You cannot anticipate the 
 nature of the obstacles which may prevent his thinking on what 
 you are so desirous to promote. Hear me — My early education, 
 and the instrtictions of my kind Unclej have thought me to know 
 something more oE foreigners and their fashions, than I ever 
 could have learned in our happy retirement of Geierstein ; I am 
 well-nigh convinced that these Philipsons are of rank, as they 
 are of manners and bearing, far superior to the occupation which 
 they appear to hold. The father is a man of deep observation, 
 of high thoughts and pretension, and lavish of gifts, far beyond 
 what consists with the utmost liberality of a trader." 
 
 '■ That is true," said Annette ; " I will say for myself that 
 the silver chain he gave me weighs against ten silver crowns, 
 and the cross which Arthur added to it, the day after the long 
 ride we had together up toward Mont Pilatre, is worth, they 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 255 
 
 ten me, &s much more. There is not the like of it in the Can- 
 tons. Well,'wliat then ? Thev are ricli, so are you. So much, 
 tlie better." 
 
 " Alas ! Annette, they are not only rich, but noble. I am per' 
 suaded of tliis ; for I have observed often, that even the father 
 retreated, with an air of quiet and dignified contempt, from dis- 
 cussions with Donnerhugel and others, who, in our plain way, 
 wished to fasten a dispute upon him. And when a rude obser- 
 vation or blunt pleasantry was pointed at the son, his eyes 
 flashed, his cheek coloredj and it was only a glance from his 
 father which induced him to repress the retort of no friendly 
 character which rose tp his lips." 
 
 " You have been a close observer," sai4 Annette. " All this 
 may be true, but I noted it not. But what then, I say once 
 more ? If Arthur has some fine noble name in his own country, 
 are not you yourself Baroness of Arnheim ? And I will frankly 
 allow it as something of worth, if it smooths the way to a match, 
 where I think you must look for happiness — I hope so, else I 
 am sure it should have no encouragement from me." 
 
 " I do believe so, my faithful Veilchen ; but, alas ! how can 
 you, in the state of. natural freedom, in which you have been 
 bred, know, or even dream, of the various restraints which this 
 gilded or golden chain of rank , and nobility hangs upon those 
 whom it fetters and encumbers, I fear, as much as it decorates .' 
 In every country, the distinction of rank binds meri to certain 
 duties. It may carry with it restrictions, which may prevent 
 alliances in foreign countries — it often may prevent them from 
 consulting their inclinations when they wed in their own. It 
 leads to alliances in which the heart is never consulted, to 
 treaties of marriage, which are often formed when the parties 
 are in the cradle, or in leading strings, but which are not the 
 less binding on them in honor and faith. Such may exist in 
 the present case. These alliances are often blended and mixed 
 up with state policy ; and if the interest of England, or what he 
 deems such, should have occasioned the elder Philipson to form 
 such an engagement, Arthur would break his own heart — rthe 
 heart of any one else — rather than make false his father's 
 word." 
 
 " The more shame to them that formed such an engagement ! " 
 said Annette. " Well, they talk of England being a free country ; 
 but if they can bar young men and women of the natural privjr 
 lege to call their hands and hearts their own, I would as soon 
 be a German serf. — Well, lady, you are wise, and I am ignorant, 
 But what isito be done ? I have brought this young mart here, 
 expecting, God knows, a happier issue to your meeting. But it 
 
256 ANNE OF GEIEKSTEIN. 
 
 is' clear you cannot marry him without his asking you. Now, 
 although I confess that, if I could think him willing to forfeit 
 the hand of the fairest maid of the Cantons, either from want 
 of manly courage to ask it, or from regard to some ridiculous 
 engagement, formed betwixt his father and some other nobleman 
 of their island of noblemen, I would not in either case grudge 
 him a ducking in the moat ; yet it is another question, whether 
 we should send him down to be murdered among those cut- 
 throats of the Rhinegrave ; and unless we do so, I know not 
 how to get rid of him." 
 
 " Then let the boy William give attendance on him here, and 
 do you see to his accommodation. It is best we do not meet." 
 
 ■' I will," said Annette ; " yet what am I to say for you ? 
 Unhappily, I let him knbw that yoU were here." 
 
 " Alas, imprudent girl ! Yet why should I blame thee," said 
 Anne of Geierstein, " when thfe imprudence has been so great 
 on my own side .'' It is myself, who; suffering my imagination 
 to rest too long upoti this young man and his merits, have led 
 me into this entanglement. But I will show thee that I can 
 overcome this folly, and I will not seek in ray own error a cause 
 for evading the duties of' hospitality. Go, Veilchen, get some 
 refreshment ready. Thou shalt sup with us, and thou must 
 not leave us. Thou shalt see me behave as becomes both a 
 German lady and a Swiss maiden. Get me first a candle, how- 
 ever, my girl, for I must wash these tell-tales, my eyes, and 
 arrange my dressi" - 
 
 To Anniette this whble explanation had been one scene of 
 astonishment, for, in the Simple ideas of love and courtship in 
 which she had been brought up amid the Swiss mountains, she 
 had expected that the two lovers would have taken the first 
 opportunity of the absence of their natural guardians, and have 
 utiited themselves forever ; and she had even arranged a little 
 secondary plot, in \Vhich she herself and Martin Sprenger, her 
 faithful bachelor, were to reside with the young couple as 
 friends and dependants. Silenced, therefore, but not satisfied, 
 by the objections of her young mistress, the zealous Annette 
 retreated murmuring to herself, — " That little hint about her 
 dress is the only natural and sensible word she has said in my 
 hearing. Please God, I will return and help her in the twin- 
 kling of an eye. That dressing my mistress is the only part of a 
 waiting-lady's life that I have the least fancy for — it seems so 
 natural for one pretty maiden to set off another — in faith we 
 are but learning to dress ourselves at another time." 
 
 And with this sage remark Annette Veilchen tripped down 
 stairs. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEJN. 257 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND. 
 
 Tell me not of it — I could ne'er abide 
 The mummery of all that forced civility, 
 " Pray, seat yourself, my lord." With'cringing hams 
 The speech is spoken, and, with bended knee. 
 Heard by the smiling courtier. — " Before you, sir? 
 It must be on the earth then." Hang it all ! 
 The pride which cloaks itself in such poor fashion 
 Is scarcely fit to swell a beggar's bbsbni; ' 
 
 Old Play; 
 
 Up stairs and down stairs tripped Annette Veilchen, the 
 soul of all that was going on in the only habitable corner of 
 I the huge castle of Arnheim. She was equal to every ^ind of 
 service, and therefore popped her head into the stable to be 
 sure that William attended properly to Arthur's horse, looked 
 into the kitchen to see that the old cook, Marthon,, roasted the 
 partridges in due time (an interference forwhich she received 
 little thanks), rummaged out a flask or two of Rhine wine from 
 the huge Dom Daniel of a cellar, and finally,, just peepedinto 
 the parlor to see how Arthur ■ ^ag looking ; when, having the 
 satisfaction to see he had, in the best manner he could, sedu- 
 lously arranged his person, she assured him that he should 
 shortly see her mistress, who was rather indisposed, yet cQuld 
 nor refrain from coming down to see so valued an acquaintance. 
 
 Arthur blushed when she spoke thus, and seemed so hand- 
 some in the waiting-maid's eye, that she could not help saying 
 to he.rself, as she went to her young lady's room— i" Well, if 
 true love cannot manage to bring that couple together, in spite 
 of all the obstacles that thiqy stand boggling at, I will never 
 believe. that there is such a thing as true love in the world, let 
 Martin Sprenger say what he will, and swear to it on the 
 gospels." 
 
 When she reached the young Baroness's apartment, she 
 found, to her surprise, that, instead of having put on what 
 finery she possessed, that young lady's choice had preferred 
 the same simple kirtle; which she had worn during the first day 
 that Arthur had dined at Geierstein. Annette lookedi at first 
 puzzled and doubtful, then suddenly recognized the good taste 
 which had dictated, the attire, and exclaimed; — " you are right 
 — ^you, are right — it is best to meet him as a free-hearted Swiss 
 maiden." 
 
2i;8 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Anne also srtiiled as she replied — " But at the same time, 
 in the walls of Arnheira, I must appear in some respect as the 
 daughter of my father. — Here, girl, aid me to put this gem 
 upon the ribbon >vhich binds my hair." 
 
 It was an aigrette, or plume, composed of two feathers of a 
 vulture, fastened together by an opal, which changed to the 
 changing light with a variability which enchanted the Swiss 
 damsel, who had never seen anj'thing resembling it in her life. 
 
 " Now, Baroness Anne," said she, " if that pretty thing be 
 really worn as a sign of your rank, it is the only thing belong- 
 ing to your dignity that I should ever think of coveting; for 
 it doth shimmer and change color after a most wonderful 
 fashion, even something like one's own cheek when one is 
 fluttered." 
 
 " Alas, Annette ! " said the Baroness, passing her hand 
 across her eyes, " of all the gauds which the females of my 
 house have owned, this perhaps hath been the most fatal to its 
 possessors." 
 
 "And why then wear it?" said Annette, "Why wear it 
 now of all days in the )'ear?"' 
 
 "Because it best reminds me of my duty to my father and 
 family. And now, girl, look thou sit with us at table, and leave 
 not the apai-tment ; and see -thou fly not to and fro to help tln-- 
 self or others with anything on the board, but remain quiet and 
 seated till William helps you to What you have occasion for." 
 
 "Well, that is a gentle fashion, which I like well enough;" 
 said Annette, " and William serves us so debonairly, that it is 
 a joy to see him ; yet, ever and anon, I feel as I were not 
 Annette Veilchfen herself, but only Annette Veilchen's picture, 
 since I can neithet rise, sit down, run about, nor stand still, 
 without breaking some rule of courtly breeding. It is not so, 
 I dare say, with you who are always mannerly." 
 
 " Less courtly than thou seemest to think," said the high- 
 born maiden; "but I feel the restraint rhore on the green- 
 swkrd, and under heaven's free air, than when I undergo it 
 closed within the walls of an apartment." 
 
 "Ah, true — the dancing," said Annette ; " that was Some- 
 thing to be sorry for indeed." 
 
 " But most am I sorry, Annette; that I cannot tell whether 
 I act precisely right or wrong in seeing this yoiirig man, though 
 it niust be for the last time. Were my father to arrive ? — Were 
 Ital Schretkenwald to return" ■ 
 
 "Your father is too deeply engaged on some of his dark and 
 mystic errands," said the flippant Swiss ; " sailed to the moun- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 259 
 
 tains of the Br.ockenberg, were witches hold their sabbath, or 
 gone on a hunting-party with the Wild Huntsman." 
 
 " Fie, Annette, how dare you talk thus of my father? " 
 
 "Why, I know little of him personally," said the damsel, 
 "and you yourself do not know much more. And how should 
 that be false which all men say is true ? " 
 
 "Why, fool, what do they say ? " 
 I " Why, that the Count is a wizard — that your grandmother 
 I was a will-of-wisp, and old Ital Schreckenwald a born devil in- 
 Icarnate ; and there is some truth in that, whatever comes of 
 the rest." 
 
 " Where is he .' " 
 
 " Gone down to spend the night in the village, to see the 
 Rhinegrave's men quartered, and keep them in some order, if 
 possible ; for the soldiers are disappointed of pay which they 
 had been promised ; and when this happens, nothing resembles 
 a Lanz-knecht except a chafed bear." 
 
 " Go we down then, girl ; it is perhaps the last night which 
 we may spend, for years, with a certain degree of freedom." 
 
 I will not pretend to describe-the marked embarrassment 
 with which Arthur Philipson and Anne of Geierstein met ; 
 neither lifted their eyes, neither spoke intelligibly, as they 
 greeted each other,' and the maiden herself did not blush more 
 deeply than her modest visitor ; while the good-humored Swiss 
 girl, whose ideas of love partook of the freedom of a more 
 Arcadian country and its customs, looked on with eyebrows a 
 little arched, much in wonder, and a little in contempt at a 
 couple, who, as she might think, acted with such unnatural 
 and constrained reserve. Deep was the reverence and the 
 blush with which Arthur offered his hand to the young lady, 
 and her acceptance of the courtesy had the same character of 
 extreme bashfuluess, agitation, and embarrassment. In short, 
 though little or nothing intelligible passed between this very 
 handsome and interesting couple, the interview itself did not on 
 that account lose any interest. Arthur handed the maiden, as 
 was the duty of a gallant of the day, into the next room where 
 their repast was prepared ; and' Annette, who watched with 
 singular "attention everything which occurred, felt with astonish^ 
 ment, that the forms and ceremonies of the higher orders of 
 society had such an influence, even over her free-born mind^ as 
 the rites of the Druids over that of the Roman general, when 
 he said, 
 
 " I. scorn them, yet they awe me." . 
 
 "What can have changed them?" said Annette ;" when 
 at Geierstein, they looked but like another girl and bachelot; 
 
26o ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 only that Anne is so very handsome ; but now they move in time 
 and manner as if they were leading a stately pavin, and behave 
 to each , other with as much formal respect as if he were 
 Landamman of the Unterwalden, and she the first lady of 
 Berne. 'Tis all very fine, doubtless, but it is not the way that 
 Martin Sprenger makes love." 
 
 Apparently, the circumstances in which each of the young 
 people were placed, recalled to them the habits of lofty, and 
 somewhat formal courtesy, to which they might haye been, 
 accustomed in former days ; and while the Baroness felt it 
 necessary to observe the strictest decorum, in order to qualify 
 the reception of Arthur into the interior of her retreat, he, on 
 the other hand, endeavored to show, by the profoundness of his 
 respect, that he was incapable of misusing the kindness with 
 which he had been treated. They placed themselves at table, 
 scrupulous!/ observing the distance which might become a 
 " virtuous gentleman and maid." The youth William did the 
 service of the entertainment with deftness and courtesy, as one 
 well accustomed to such duty; and Annette, placing herself 
 between them, and endeavoring, as closely as she could, to 
 adhere to the ceremonies which she saw them' observe, made 
 practice of the civilities which were expected from the attend- 
 ant of a baroness. Various, however, were the errors which 
 she committed. Her demeanor in general was that of a gray- 
 hound in the slips, ready to start up every moment; and she 
 was only withheld by the recollection that she was to ask for 
 that which she had far more mind to help herself to. 
 
 Other points of etiquette were transgressed in their turn, 
 after the repast was over, and the attendant ihad retired. The 
 waiting damsel, often mingled too unceremoniously in the conver- 
 sation, and could not help calling her mistress by her, Christian 
 name of Anne, and, in defiance of all decorum, addressed her, as 
 well as Philipson, with the pronoun thou, which then, as well as 
 now, was a dreadful solecism in German politeness. Her blun- 
 ders were so far fortunate, that by, furnishing the young lady 
 and Arthur with a topic foreign to the peculiarities of their own 
 situation, they enabled them to withdraw their attentions from 
 its embarrassments, and to exchange smiles at poor Annette's 
 expense. She was not long of perceiving this, and half nettled, 
 half availing herself of the apology to speak her mind, said, with 
 considerable spirit, " You have both been very merry, forsooth, 
 at my expense, and all because I wished rather to rise and seek 
 what I wanted, than wait till the poor fellow, who was kept 
 trotting. between the board and beauffet, found leisure to bring 
 it to me. You laugh at me now, because I call you by your 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 261 
 
 names, as they were given to you in the blessed church at your 
 christening ; and because I say to you thee and thou, addressing 
 my Yuncker and my Youngfrou as I would do if I were on my 
 knees praying to Heaven. But for all your new world fancies, 
 I can tell you, you are but a couple of children, who do not 
 know your own minds, and are jesting away the only leisure 
 given you to provide for your own happiness. Nay, frown not, 
 my sweet Mistress Baroness ; I have looked at Mont Pilatre 
 too often to fear a gloomy brow." 
 
 " Peace, Annette," said her mistress, " or quit the room." 
 
 " Were I not more your friend than I am my own," said the 
 headstrong and undaunted Annette, " I would quit the rooni, 
 and the castle to boot, and leave you to hold your house here 
 with )'our amiable seneschal, Ital Schreckenwald." 
 
 " If liot for love, yet for shame, for charity, be silent, or 
 leave the room." 
 
 " Nay," said Annfette, " my bolt is shot, and I have but 
 hinted at what all upon Geierstein Green said, the night when 
 the bow of Buttisholz was bended. You know what the old 
 saw says '' 
 
 " Peace ! peace, for Heaven's sake, or I must, needs fly ! " 
 said the young Baroness. 
 
 •' Nay, then," said Annette, considerably changing, her tone, 
 as if afraid that her mistress should actually retire, "if you 
 must fly, necessity must have its course. ,1 know no one who 
 can follow. This mistress of mine, Seignor Arthur, would 
 require for her attendant not a homely girl of flesh and blood 
 like myself, but a waiting woma^ with a substance composed of 
 gossamer, and breath supplied by the spirit of ether. Would 
 you believe it 1 — It is seriously held by many, that she partakes 
 of the race of spirits of the elements, which makes her so much 
 more bashful than maidens of this everyday world." 
 
 Anne of Geierstein seemed rather glad to lead aw^y the con- 
 versation from the turn which her wayward maiden had given 
 to it,, and to turn it on more indifferent subjects, though these 
 were still personal to herself. 
 
 " Seignor Arthur," she said, " thinks, perhaps, he has some 
 room to nourish some such strange suspicion as your heedless 
 folly expresses, and some fools believe, both in Germany and 
 Switzerland. Confess, Seignor Arthur, you thought strangely 
 of me when I passed your guard upon the bridge of Graffs-lust, 
 on the night last past." 
 
 The recollection of the circumstances which had so greatly 
 surprised him at the time, so startled Arthur, that, it was with 
 some difficulty he commanded himself, so as . to aittempt an 
 
262 ' ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 answer at all ; and what he did say on the occasion was broken 
 and unconnected. 
 
 " I did hear, I own — that is, Rudolph Donrierhugel reported 
 — But that I believed that you, gentle lady, were other than a 
 Christian maiden " 
 
 " Nay, if Rudolph were the reporter, said Annette, " you 
 would hear the worst of my lady and her lineage, that is certain. 
 He is one of those prudent personages who depreciate and find 
 fault with the goods he has thoughts of purchasing, in order to 
 deter other offerers. Yes, he told you a fine goblin story, I 
 warrant you, of my lady's grandmother; and truly, it so hap- 
 pened, that the circumstances of the case gave, I dare say, some 
 color in your eyes to " • 
 
 " Not so, Annette,'' answered Arthur; "whatever might be 
 said of your lady that sounded uncouth and strange, fell to the 
 ground as incredible." 
 
 " Not quite so much so, I fancy," interrupted Annette, 
 without heeding sign or frown. " I strongly suspect I should 
 have had much more trouble in dragging you hither to this 
 castle, had you known you were approaching the haunt of the 
 Nymph of the Fire, the Salamander, as they call her, not to 
 mention the shock of again seeing the descendant of that 
 Maiden of the Fiery Mantle." 
 
 " Peace, once more, Annette," said her mistress ; " since 
 Fate has occasioned this meeting, let us not neglect the oppcfri 
 tunity to disabuse our English friend, of the absurd report he 
 has listened to with doubt and wonder perhaps, but not with 
 absolute incredulity. , ' 
 
 " Seignor Arthur Philipson," she proceeded, "it is' true my 
 grandfather, by the mother's side. Baron Herman of Arnheim, 
 was a man of great knowledge in abstruse sciences. He was 
 also a presiding judge of a tribunal of which you must have 
 heard, called the Holy Vehme. One night a stranger, closely 
 pursued by the agents of that body, which (crossing herself) it 
 is not safe even to name, arrived at the castle and icraved his 
 -protection, and the rights of hospitality. My grandfather, find- 
 ing the advance which the stranger had made to the tank of 
 Adept, ^ave him his protection, and became bail to deliver him 
 to answer the charge against him, for a year and a day, which 
 delay he was, it seems, entitled to require on his behalf. They 
 studied together during that term, and pushed their researches 
 into the mysteries of nature, as far, in all probability, as men 
 have the power of urging them. When the fatal day drew nigh 
 on which the guest must part from his host, he asked permission 
 to bring his daughter to the castle, that they might exchange a 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 263 
 
 last farewell. She was introduced with much secrecy, and after 
 some days, finding that her father's fate was so uncertain, the 
 Baron, with the sage's consent, agreed to give the forlorn 
 maiden refuge in his castle, hoping to obtain from her some 
 additional information concerning the languages and the wisdom 
 of the East. Dannischemend, her father, left this castle, to go 
 to render himself up to the Vehmegericht at Fulda. The re- 
 sult is unknown ; perhaps he was saved by Baron Arnheim's 
 testimony, perhaps he was given up to the steel and the cord. 
 Oh such matters, who dare speak? 
 
 " The fair Persian became the wife of her guardian and 
 protector. Amid many excellences, she had one peculiarity 
 al-lied to imprudence. She availed herself of her foreign dress 
 and manners, as well as of a beauty which was said to have 
 been marvelous, and an agility seldom equaled, to impose 
 upon and terrify the ignorant German ladies, who, hearing her 
 speak Persian and Arabic, were already disposed to consider 
 her as over closely connected with unlawful arts. She was of 
 a fanciful and imaginative disposition, and delighted to place 
 herself in such colors and circumstances as might donfirm their 
 most ridiculous suspicions, which she Considered only as matter 
 of sport. There was no end to the stories to which- she gave 
 rise. Her first appearance in the castle was said to be highly 
 picturesque, and to have inferred something of the marvelous. 
 With the levity of a child, she had some childish passions, and 
 while she encouraged the growth and circulation of the most 
 extraordinary legends amongst some of the neighborhood, she 
 entered into disputes with persons of her own quality, concern- 
 ing rank and precedence, on which the ladies of Westphalia 
 have at all times set great store. This cost her her life ; for, 
 ,. on the morning of the christening of my poor mother, the 
 > Baroness of Arnheim died suddenly, even wliile a splendid 
 company was assembled in the castle chapel to witness the 
 ceremony. It was believed that she died of poison, adminis- 
 tered by the Baroness Steinfeldt, with whom she was engaged 
 in a bitter quarrel, entered into chiefly on behalf of her friend 
 and companion, the Countess Waldstetten." 
 
 " And 'the opal gem ? — and the sprinklitig with water ? " said 
 Arthur Philipson. 
 
 " Ah ! " replied the young Baroness, " I see you desire to 
 hear the real truth Of my family history, of which you have yet 
 learned only the romantic legend. — The sprinkling of water 
 was necessarily had recourse to, on' my ancestress's .first swoOn. 
 As for the opal, I have heard that it did indeed grow pde, but 
 only because it is said to be the nature of that noble gem, on 
 
264 AhTNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 the approach of poison. Some part of the quarrel with the 
 IBaroness Steinfeldt was about the right of the Persian maiden 
 to wear this stone, which an ancestor in my family won. in 
 battle from the Soldan of Trebizond. All these things were 
 confused in popular tradition, and the real facts turned into a 
 fairy tale." , , ; . 
 
 "But you have said nothing," suggested Arthur Philipson, 
 on — on "-- 
 
 " On what ? " said his hostess. 
 
 "On your appearance last night." 
 
 " Is it possible," said she, " that a man of sense, and an 
 Epglishman, cannot guess at the explanation which I have to 
 give, though not, perhaps, very distinctly ? My father, you 
 are aware, has been a busy man in a disturbed country, and 
 has incurred the hatred of many powerful persons. He is, 
 therefore, obliged to move in secret, and avoid unnecessary 
 observation. H^e was, besides, averse to meet his brother, the 
 Landamman. I was therefore told, on our entering Germany, 
 that, I was to expect a signal where and when to join him, — -the 
 token was to be a small crucifix of bronze, which had belonged 
 to my poor mother. In my apartment at Graffs-lust I found 
 the token, with a note from my father, making me acquainted 
 with a secret passage proper to such places, which, though it 
 had the appearance, of being blocked up, was in fact very 
 slightly barricaded.. By this I was instructed to pass to the 
 gate, make my escape into the woods, and meet my father at a 
 place appointed therp." 
 
 " A wild and perilous adventure," said Arthur. 
 
 " I have never been so much shocked," continued the maiden, 
 " as at receiving this summons, compelling me to steal away 
 from my kind and affectionate uncle, and go I knew not, 
 ■whither. Yet compliance was absolutely necessary. The place- 
 of meeting w,as plainly pointed out. A midnight walk, in the 
 neighborhood of protection, was to me a trifle ;^ but the pre- 
 caution of posting sentinels at the gate might have interfered 
 with my purpose, had I not mentioned it to some of my elder 
 cousins, the Biedermans, who readily agreed to let me pass and 
 repass unquestioned. But you know my cousins ; honest and 
 kind-hearted, they are of a rude way of thinking, and as in- 
 capable of feeling a generous delicacy as — some other persons." 
 (Here ther^ was a glance toward Annette Veilchen.) — " They 
 exacted from me, that I should conceal myself and my purpose 
 from Sigismund; and as they are always making sport with 
 the simple youth, they insisted that I should pass him in such 
 a manner as, plight induce h™ to believe that I was a spiritual 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 265 
 
 apparition, and oiit of his terrors for supernatural beings they 
 expected to have muela amusement. I was obliged to secure 
 their connivance at my escape on their own terms ; and, indeed, 
 I was too much grieved at the prospect of quitting my kind 
 uncle, to think much of anything else. Yet my surprise was 
 considerable, when, contrary to expectation, I found you on the 
 bridge as sentinel, instead of my cousin Sigismund. Your own 
 ideas I ask not for." 
 
 " They were those of a fool," said Arthur, " of a thrice- 
 sodden fool. Had I been aught else, I would have offered my 
 escort. My sword "- 
 
 " I could not have accepted your protection," said Anne, 
 calmly. "My mission was in every respect a secret one. ,1 
 met my father — some intercourse had taken place betwixt him 
 and Rudolph Donnerhugel, which induced him to alter his pur- 
 pose of carrying me away with him last night. I joined him, 
 however, early this morning, while Annette acted for a time my 
 part amongst the Swiss pilgrims. My father desired that it 
 should not be known when or with whom I left my uncle 
 a.nd his escort. I need scarce remind you that I saw you in the 
 dungeon." 
 
 ^ You were the preserver of my life," said the youth — " the 
 res,torer of my liberty." 
 
 " Ask me not the reason of my silence. I was then acting 
 under the agency of others, not under mine own. Your escape 
 was effected, in order to establish a communication betwixt the 
 Swiss without the fortress and the soldiers within. After the 
 alarm at La Ferette, I learned from Sigismund Biederman that 
 a party of Banditti were pursuing your father and you, with a 
 view to pillage and robbery. Myfather had furnished me with 
 the means of changing Anne of Geierstein into a German 
 maiden of quality. I set out instantly, and glad I aim to have 
 given you a hint which might free you from danger." 
 
 " But my father ? " said Arthur. 
 
 " I have every reason to hope he is well and safe," answered 
 the young lady. More than I were eager to protect both you' 
 and him — poor Sigismund amongst the first. — And rtow, my 
 friend, these mysteries explained, it is time we part, and for- 
 ever." 
 
 " Part ! — and forever ! " repeated ihe youth in a voice like 
 a dying echo. 
 
 " It is our fate," said the maiden. " I appeal to you if it is 
 not your duty — I tell you it is mine. You will depart with early 
 dawn to Strassburg — and-yand — we never meet again." 
 
 With an ardor of passion which he could not repress, Arthur 
 
266 ANNE OF CEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Philipson threw himself at the feet of the maiden, whose falter- 
 ing tone had clearly expressed that she felt deeply in uttering 
 the words. She looked round for Annette, but Annette had 
 disappeared at the most critical moment ; and her mistress for 
 a second or two was not perhaps sorry for her absence. 
 
 " Rise," she said, " Arthur — rise. You must not give way 
 to feelings that might be fatal to yoyrself and me." 
 
 " Hear me, lady, before I bid you adieu, and forever — the 
 word of a criminal is heard, though he plead the worst cause — ■ 
 I am a belted knight, and the son and heir of an Earl, whose 
 name has been spread throughout England and> France, and 
 W'herever valor has had fame." ' 
 
 " Alas! " said she, faintly, " I have but too long suspected 
 what you now tell me — Rise, I pray you, rise." 
 
 " Never till you hear me," said the youth, seizing one of 
 her hands, which trembled, but hardly could be said to struggle 
 in his grasp. — " Hear me," he said, with the enthusiasm of first 
 love, when, the obstacles of bashfulness and diffidence are sur- 
 mounted — "My father, and I are — I acknowledge it — bound 
 on a most hazardous and doubtful expedition. You will very 
 soon learn its issue for good or bad. If it succeed, you shall 
 hear of me in my own character.^ — If I fall, I' must — I will — I 
 do claim a tear from Anne of Geierstein. If I escape, I have 
 yet ahorse, a lance, and a sword; and you shall hear nobly 
 of him whom you have thrice protected from imminent 
 danger." 
 
 " Arise — ;arise," repeated the maiden, whose tears began to 
 flow fast, as, struggling to raise her lover, they, fell thick upon 
 his head and face. ^' I have heard enough — to listen to more 
 were indeed madness, both for you and myself." 
 
 " Yet one single word," a,dded the youth ; " while Arthur 
 has a heart, it beats for you — while Arthur can wield an arm, 
 it strikes for you, and in your cause." 
 
 Annette now rushed into the room. 
 
 "Away, away! " she ,cried — " Schreckenvifald has returned 
 from the village with some horrible tidings, and I fear me he 
 comes tijis way." 
 
 Arthur had started to his feet at the first signal of alarm. 
 
 " If there is danger near your lady, Annette, there is at least 
 one faithful, friend by her side,", , 
 
 Annette looked anxiously at her mistress. 
 
 " But Schreckenwald," sjjie said — " .Schreckenwald, your 
 father's steward — his confidant. — Oh, think better of it— I caa 
 hide Arthur somewhere." 
 
 Thai nobl£;-minded girl had already resumed her composure, 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. . 267 
 
 and replied with dignity — " I have done nothing," she said, " to 
 offend my father. If Schreckenwald .be my father's steward, 
 he is my vassal. I hide no guest to conciliate him. Sit down," 
 (addressing Arthur), " and let us receive this man — Introduce 
 him instantly, Annette, and let us hear his tidings — and bid 
 him remember, that when he speaks to me he addresses his 
 mistress." 
 
 Arthur resumed his seat, still more proud of his choice from 
 the noble and fearless spirit displayed by one who had so 
 lately shown herself sensible to the gentlest feelings of the 
 female sex. • 
 
 Annette, assuming courage from her mistress's dauntless 
 demeanor, clapped her hands together as she left the room, 
 sayingj but in a low voice, "I see that after all it is something 
 to be a Baroness, if one can assert her dignity conformingly., 
 How could I be so frightened for this rude man I " 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD. 
 
 — AfEairs that walk 
 
 (As they say spirits do) at midnight, have 
 In them a wilder nature than the business 
 That seeks despatch bv day. 
 
 Henry VIII., Act %. 
 
 The approach of the steward was now boldly expected by 
 the little party. Arthur, flattered at once and elevated by the 
 firmness which Anne had shown when this person's arrival was 
 announced, hastily considered the part which he was to-act in 
 the approaching scene, and prudently determined to avoid all 
 active and personal interference, till he should observej from 
 the demeanor of Anne, tha* such was likely to be useful or 
 agreeable to her. He resumed his place, therefore, at a distant 
 part of the board, on which their meal had been lately spread, 
 and remained there, determined to act in the manner Anne's 
 behavior should suggest as most prudent and fitting,— veiling, 
 at the same time, the most acute internal anxiety, by an ap- 
 pearance of that deferential composure, which one of inferior 
 rank adopts when admitted to the presence of a superior. 
 Anne, on her ,part, seemed to prepare herself for an interview 
 of interest. An air of conscious dignity succeeded the extreme 
 agitation which she had so lately displayed, and, busying her- 
 self with some articles- of female work, she also seemed to 
 
268 AMNE OF GE/jESSTEIM. 
 
 expect with tranquility the %'isit, to which her attendant was 
 disposed to attacli so much alarm. 
 
 A step wa:s heard upon the stair, hurried and unequal, as 
 that of some one in confusion as well as haste ; the door fiew 
 open, and Ital SchreckenWald entered. 
 
 This person, with whom the details given to the elder Philip- 
 son by the Landamman Biederman have made the reader in 
 I some degree acquainted, was a tall, Well-made, soMierly-looking 
 , man. His dress, like that of persons of rank at the period in 
 ' Germany, was more varied in color, more cut and ornamented, 
 , slashed and jagged, than the habit >»orn in France and England. 
 The never-failing hawk's feather decked his cap, secured with a 
 medal of gold, which served as a clasp. His doublet was of 
 buff, for defencejbut laid down, as it was called in the tailor's 
 craft, with rich lace on each seam, and displayed on the breast 
 * a golden chain, the emblem of his rank in the Baron's household. 
 He entered with rather a hasty step, and busy and oflEended 
 look, and said sbmewhat rudely, — "Why, how now, young lady 
 — wherefore this ? Strangers in the castle at this period of 
 night.!" 
 
 Anne of Geierstein, though she had been long absent from 
 her native country, was not ignorant of its habits and customs, 
 and knew the haughty manner in which all who were noble 
 exerted their authority over their dependants. 
 
 " Are you a vassal of Arnheim, Ital Schreckenwald, and do 
 you speg.k to the Lady of Arnheim in her own castle with an 
 elevated voice, a saucy look, and bonneted withal ? Know your 
 place • and, when you have demanded pardon for your insolence, 
 and told your errand in such terms as befit your condition and 
 mine, I may listen to what you have to say." 
 
 Schreckenwald's hand, in spite of him, stole to his bonnet, 
 and uncovered his haughty brow. 
 
 "Noble lady, he said, in a somewhat milder tone, "excuse 
 me if my haste be unmannerly, but the alarm is instant. The 
 soldiery of the Rhinegrave liave mutinied, plucked down the 
 banners of their master, and set up an independent ensign, 
 which 'they call the pention of St. Nicholas, under which they 
 declare that they will maintain peace with God, and war "witii 
 all the world. This castle cannot escape them, when they con- 
 sider that the first course to maintain thettiselves, must be to 
 take possession of some place of strength,, You must up then, 
 and ride with the very peep of dawn. For the present, they 
 are busy with the wine-skins of the peasants ; but when they 
 wake in the morning, they will unquestionably march hither ; 
 and you may chance to fall into the hands of those who will 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 269 
 
 think of the terrors of the castle of Arnheim as the figments of 
 a fairy tale,.and laugh at its mistress's pretensions to ihonor 
 and respect." ,1 
 
 " Is it impossible to make resistance ? The castle is strong," 
 said the yomig lady, " and I am unwilling to leave the housfi' of 
 my fathers^without attempting somewhat in our defence.'' ' 
 
 " Five hundred men," s^id Schreckenwald, " might garrison 
 Arnheim, battlement and tower. With a less number it were 
 madness to attempt to keep such an extent of walls ; and how 
 to get twenty soldiers together, I am sure I know not. — So, , 
 having now the truth of the story, let me beseech you to dis- 
 miss this guest,-^too young, I think, to be the inmate of a 
 lady's bower, — and I will point to him the nighest way out of 
 the castle ; for this is a strait in which we must all be contented 
 with looking to our own safety." 
 
 "And whither is it that you propose to go?" said the 
 Baroness, continuing to maintain, in respect toltal SchreckeuT 
 wald, the complete and calm assertion of absolute superiority, to 
 which the seneschal gave way with such marksjof impatience, 
 as a fiery steed exhibits under the management of a complete 
 cavalier. , _ - 
 
 " To Strassburg I propose to go, — that is, if it so please you, 
 — with such slight esCort as I can get hastily together by day- 
 break. I trust we may escape being observed by the mutineers 5 
 or, if we fall in with a party" of stragglers, I apprehend but 
 little difficulty in forcing my way." < <■ 
 
 " And wherefore do you prefer Strassburg as a place of 
 asylum ? " 
 
 " Because I trust we shall there meet your excellency'sfather, 
 the noble Count, Albert of Geierstein." 
 
 y It is well," said the young lady. — " You also, I think, 
 Seignpr Philipson, spoke of directing, your course to Strassburg. 
 If it consist with your convenience, ^ou may avail yourself of 
 the protection of my escort as far as that city, where you expect 
 to meet your father." 
 
 It will readily be believed that Arthur cheerfully bowed 
 assent to a proposal which was to prolong their remaining in 
 society together; and might possibly, 9s his romantic imagina-- 
 tion suggested, afford him &n opportunity, on a road beset with 
 dangers, to render some service of importance. 
 
 Ital Schreckenwald attempted to remonstrate. 
 
 " Lady ! — lady ] " — he said, with some marks of impatience. 
 
 " Take breath and leisure, Schreckenwald," said Anne. 
 " and you will be more able to-express yourself with distinctness 
 and. with respectful propriety." . , 
 
2^0 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 The impatient vassal muttered an oath betwixt his teeth, 
 and answered with forced civility, — " Permit me to state, that 
 our case requires we should charge ourselves with the care of no 
 one but you. We shall be few enough for your defence, and I 
 cannot permit any stranger to travel with us." 
 
 " If," said Arthur, " I conceived that I was to be a useless 
 encumbrance on the retreat of this noble young lady, worlds, 
 Sir Squire, would not induce me to accept her offer. But I am 
 neither child nor woman — I am a full-grown man, and ready to 
 show such good service as manhood may, in defence of your 
 lady." 
 
 " If we must not challenge your valor and ability, young 
 sir," said Schreckenwald, " who shall answer for your fidelity ? " 
 
 " To question that elsewhere," said Arthur, " might be dan- 
 gerous." 
 
 But Anne interfered between them. " We muSt straight to 
 rest, and remain prompt for alarm, perhaps even before the hour 
 of dawn. Schreckenwald, I trust to your care for due watch and 
 ward. — -You have men enough at least for that purpose. — And 
 hearand mark — It is my desire and command that this gentle- 
 man be accommodated with lodgings here for this night, and 
 that he travel with us to-morrow. ' For this I will be responsible 
 to my father, and your part is only to obey my commands. I 
 have long had occasion to know both the young man's father 
 and himself, who were ancient guests of my uncle, the Landam- 
 man. On the journey you will keep the youth beside you, and 
 tise such courtesy to him as your rugged temper will permit." 
 
 Ital Schreckenwald intimated his acquiescence with a look 
 of bitterness, which it were vain to attempt to describe. It 
 expressed spite, mortification, humbled pride, and reluctant 
 submission. He did submit, however, and ushered yo)(ing 
 Philipsori into a decent apartment with a bed, which thc> 
 fatigue ' and agitation of- the preceding day rendered very 
 acceptable. . , 
 
 Notwithstanding the ardor with which Arthur expected 
 the rise of the next dawn, his deep repose, the fruit of fatigue, 
 held him until the reddening of the east, when the voice of 
 Schreckenwald exclaimed, " Up, Sir Englishman, if you mean 
 to accomplish your boast of loyal service. It is time we were 
 in the saddle, and we shall tarry for no sluggards." 
 
 "Arthur was on the floor of the apartment, and dressed in 
 almost an instant, not forgetting to put on bis shirt of mail and 
 assume whatever weapons seemed most fit to render him an 
 eflScient part of the convoy. He next hastened to seek out the 
 stable, to have his horse in readiness ; and descending for that 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 271 
 
 purpose into the under story of the lower mass of buildings, he 
 was wandering in search of the way'whifch led to the offices, 
 when the voice of Annette Veilchen softly whispered, "This 
 way, Seignor Philipson ; I would speak with you." 
 
 The Swiss maiden, at the same tiime, beckoned him into a 
 small room, where he found her alone. 
 
 " Were you not surprised," she said, " to see my lady, queen 
 it so over Ital Schreckenwald, who keeps every other person in 
 awe with his stern looks and cross words ? But the air of 
 command seems so natural to her, that, instead of being a 
 baroness, she might have been an emprfess. It must come of 
 birth, I think, after all, for I tried last night to take state upon 
 me, after the fashion of my mistress, and, would you think it, 
 the brute Schreckenwald threatened to throw me out of the 
 window ? ' But if ever I see Martin Sprenger again, I'll know if 
 there is strength in a Swiss arm, and virtue in a Swiss quarter- 
 staff. — But here I stand prating, 'and my lady wishes to see you 
 for a minute ere we take to horse." 
 
 " Your lady ? " said Arthur, startitig, '" why did you lose an 
 instant ? — why not tell me before ? " 
 
 " Because I was only to keep you here till she came, and — 
 here she is." 
 
 Anne of Geierstein entered, fully attired for her journey. 
 Annette, always willing to do as she would wish to be done by, 
 was about to leave the apartment, when her mistress, who had 
 apparently made up her mind concerning what she had to do or 
 say, commanded her positively to remain. 
 
 " I am sure, she said, "Seignor Philipson will rightly under-, 
 stand the feelings of hospitality — Lwillsay of friendship — which 
 prevented mv suffering him to be expelled from my castle last 
 night, and which have determined me this morning to admit of 
 his company on the somewhat dangerous road to Strassburg. 
 At the gate' of that town we part, I to join my father, you to 
 place yourself under the direction of j'ours. From' that moment 
 intercourse between us ends, and our remembrance of each 
 other must be as the thoughts which we pay to friends de- 
 ceased." 
 
 "Tender recollections," said Arthur, passionately, "more 
 dear to our bosoms than all we have stiryiving upon earth." 
 
 "Not a word in that tone," answered the maiden. "With 
 night delusion should end, and reason awaken with dawning. 
 One word more — Do not' address me on the toad ; you may, by 
 doing so, expose me to vexatious and insulting suspicion, and 
 yourself to quarrels and peril. — Farewell, bur party is ready to 
 take horse." ' 
 
272 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 She left the apartment, where Arthur remained for a moment 
 deeply bewildered in grief and disappointment. The patience, 
 nay, even favor, with which Anne of Geierstein had, on the 
 previous night, listened to hisj3assion,had not prepared him for 
 the terms of reserve and distance which she now adopted to- 
 ward him. He was ignorant that noble maids, if feeling or 
 passion has for a moment swayed them from the strict path of 
 principle and duty, endeavor to atone for it, by instantly return- 
 ing, and severely adhering, to the line from which they have 
 made a momentary departure. He looked mournfully on An* 
 nette, who, as she had been in the room before Anne's arrival, 
 took the privilege of remaining a minute after her departure ; 
 but he read no comfort in the glances of the confidant, who 
 seemed as much disconcerted as himself. 
 
 " I cannot imagine what hath happened to her," said An- 
 nette ; " to me she is kind as ever, but to every other person 
 about her she plays countess and baroness with a witness ; and 
 now she is begun to tyrannize over her own natural feelings — - 
 and — if this be greatness, Annette Veilchen trusts always 
 to remain the penniless Swiss girl ; she is mistress of her own 
 freedom, and at liberty to speak with her bachelor when she 
 pleases, so as religion and maiden modesty suffer nothing in 
 the conversation. Oh, a single daisy twisted with content into 
 one's hair, is worth all the opals in India, if they bind us to 
 torment ourselves and other people, or hinder us from speaking 
 our mind, when our heart is upon our tongue. But never fear, 
 Arthur; for if she has the cruelty to think of forgetting you, 
 you may rely on one friend who, while she has a tongue, and 
 Anne has ears, will make it impossible for her to do so." 
 
 So saying, awa,y tripped Annette, having first indicated to 
 Philipson the passage by which he would find the lower court 
 of the castle. There his steed stood ready among about twenty 
 others. Twelve of these were accoutred with war saddles and 
 frontlets of proof, being intended for the use of as many caval- 
 iers, or troopers, retainers of the family of Arnheim, whom the 
 senescliars exertions had been able to collect on the spur of 
 the occasion. Two palfreys, somewhat distinguished by their 
 trappings, were designed for Anne of Geierstein and her favor- 
 ite female attendant. The other menials, chiefly boys and 
 women servants, had inferior horses. At a signal made, the 
 troopers took their lances and stood by their steeds, till the 
 females, were mounted and in order ;' they then sprang into 
 their saddles and began to move forward,. slowly and with great 
 precaution. Sehreckenwald led the van, and kept Arthur 
 Philipson close beside him. Anne and her attendant were in 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 273 
 
 the centre of the little body, followed by the un warlike train of 
 servants, whild two or three experienced cavaliers brought up 
 the rear, with strict orders to guard against surprise. 
 
 On their being put into rnotion, the first thing which sur- 
 prised Arthur was, that the horses' hoofs no longer sent forth 
 the sharp and ringing sound arising from the collision of iron 
 and flint, and as the morning light increased, he could perceive 
 that the fetlock and hoof of every steed, his own included, had 
 been carefully wrapped around with a sufficient quantity of wool 
 to prevent the usual noise whicl> accompanied their motions. 
 It was a singular thing to behold the passage of the little body 
 of cavalry down the rocky road which led from, the castle, un- 
 attended with the noise, which we are disposed to consider as 
 inseparable from the motions of horse, the absence of which 
 seemed to give a peculiar and almost an unearthly appearance 
 to the cavalcade. 
 
 , They passed in this manner the winding path which led from 
 the castle of Arnheim to the adjacent village, which, as was the 
 ancient feudal custom, lay so near the fortress, that 'iis inhabi- 
 tants, when summoned by their lord, could instantly repair for 
 its defence. But it waS at present occupied by very different 
 inhabitants, the mutinous soldiers of the Rhinegrave. When 
 the party from Arnheim approached the entrance of the village, 
 Schrtckfenwald ' made a signal to halt, which was instantly 
 obeyed by his followers. He then- rode forward in person to 
 reconnoitre, accompanied by Arthur Philipson, both moving 
 with the utmost steadiness and precaution. The deepest silence 
 prevailed in the deserted streets. Here and there a soldier 
 was seen, seemingly designed for a sentinel, but uniformly fast 
 asleep. 
 
 "The swinish mutineers!" said Schreckenwald ; "a fair 
 nigjit-watch they keep, and a beautiful morning's rouse would 
 I treat them with, were not the point to protect yonder peevish 
 wench.— Halt thou here, stranger, while I ride back and bring 
 them on — there is no danger." 
 
 Schreckenwald left Arthur as he spoke, who, alone in the 
 street of a village filled with banditti, though they were lulled 
 into temporary insensibility, had no reason to consider his case 
 as very comfortable. The chorus of a wasseVsong, which some 
 reveler was trolling over in his sleep ; or, in its turn, the 
 growling of some village cur, seemed the signal for a hundred 
 ruffians to start up around him. But in the space of two or 
 three minutes, the noiseless cavalcade, headed by Ital Schreck- 
 enwald, again joined him, and followed their leader, observing 
 the uthiost precaution not to give an alarm. All went well 
 
274 AjVNM of CEIEkSTEIN. 
 
 till they reached the further end of the village, where, although, 
 the Uaaren-hauter* who kept guard was as drunk as his com- 
 panions on duty, a large shaggy dog which lay beside him was 
 more vigilant. As the little, troop approached, the animal sent 
 forth a ferocious yell, loud enough to have broken the rest of 
 the Seven Sleepers, and which effectually dispelled the slum- 
 bers of its master. The soldier snatched up his carabine and 
 fired, he knew not well at what, or for what; reason. The ball, 
 however, struck Arthur's horse under hira, and, as the animal 
 fell, the sentinel rushed forward to kill or make prisoner the 
 rider. 
 
 " Haste on, haste on, men of Arnheim ! care for nothing but 
 the young lady's safety," exclaimed the leader of the band. 
 
 " Stay, I command you ; — aid the strapger on your lives ! " 
 — said Anne, in a voice which, usually gentle and meek, she 
 now made heard by those around her, like the note of a silver 
 clarion. " I will not stir till he is rescued," 
 
 Schreckenwald had already spurred his horse for flight ; but, 
 perceiving Anne's reluctance to follow hifn, he dashed back, 
 and seizing a horse, which, bridled and. saddled, stood picketed 
 near him, he threw the reins to Arthur Philipson ; and pushing 
 his own horse, at the same time, betwixt the ^Englishman and 
 the soldier, he forced the latter to quit, the hold he had on his 
 person. In an instant Philipson was again mounted, when, 
 seizing a battle-axe which hung at the saddle-bow of his new 
 steed, he struck down the staggeripg sentinel, who was en- 
 deavoring again to seize upon him. The whole troop then rode 
 off at a gallop, for the alarm began to grow general in the vil- 
 lage; some soldiei-s were seen coming out of their quarters, 
 and others were beginning to get upon horseback. Before 
 Schreckenwald and his party had ridf^en a mile, they heard 
 more than once the sound of bugles ; and when they arrived 
 upon the su'umit of an eminence commanding a- view of the 
 village, their leader, who, during the retreat, had placed himself 
 in the rear of his companions, now halted to reconnoitre the 
 enemy they had left behind them. There was bustle and. con- 
 fusion in the street, but there did not appear to be any purgtjit ; 
 so that Schreckenwald followed his route down the river, with 
 speed and activity indeed, but with so much steadiness at. the' 
 same time, as not to distress the slowest horse of his party. 
 
 When they'had ridden two hours or more, the confidence pf 
 their leader was so much augmented, that he ventured to com- 
 mand a halt at the edge of a pleasant grove, which served 
 
 * Baaren-hauter — he of the Bear's hide — a nickname for a. German 
 private soldier. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 275 
 
 to conceal their number, whilst both riders and horses took 
 some refreshment, for which purpose forage and. provisions had 
 been borne along with them. Ital Schreckenwald, having held 
 some communication with the Baroness, continued to offer their 
 traveling companion a sort of surly civilit}-. He invited him 
 to partake of his own mess, which was indeed little different 
 from that which was served out to the other troopers, but was 
 seasoned with a glass of wine from a more choice flask. 
 
 " To your health, brother," he said ; "if you tell this day's 
 
 ftory truly, you will allow that I was a true, comrade to you two 
 ours since, in riding through the village of Arnheim^." 
 
 " I will never deny it, fair sir," said Philipson, " and I return 
 you thanks for your timely assistance ; ahk6, whether it sprang 
 from your mistress's order or your own good-will." 
 
 "Ho!; ho! my friend," said Schreckenwald, laughing, ''you 
 are a philosopher, and can try conclusions while your horse 
 lies rolling above you, and a Baaren-hauter aims his sword, at 
 your throat ? — Well, since your wit hath discovered so much, I 
 care not if you know, that I should not have had much scruple 
 to sacrifice twenty such smooth-faced gentlemen as yourself, 
 rather than the yOung Baroness of Arnheim had incurred the 
 slightest danger." 
 
 " The propriety of the sentiment," said Philipson, " is so 
 undoubtedly correct, that I subscribe to it, even though it is 
 something discourteously expressed toward myself." 
 
 In making this reply, the young man, provoked at the in- 
 solence of Schreckenwald's manner, jaised his .voice a little. 
 The circumstance did not escape observation, for, on the in- 
 stant, Annette Veilchen sto5d before them, with her mistress's 
 commands on them both to speak in whispers, or rather to be 
 altogether silent. 
 
 " Say to your mistress that I am mute," said Philipson. 
 
 " Our mistress, the Baroness says," continued Annette, with 
 an emphasis on the title, to which she began to ,ascribe some 
 talismanic. influence — "the Baroness, I tell you, -says, t^at 
 silence much concerns our safety, , for it were most hazardous 
 ■to draw upon this little fugitive party the notice of any passen- 
 gers -who may pass along the road during the necessary h,alt ; 
 and so, sirs, it is the Baroness's request that you will continue 
 the exercise of your teeth as fast as you can, and forbear that 
 of your tongues till you are in a safer, condition." 
 
 " My lady is wise," answered Ital Schreckenwald, 'f and. her 
 maiden is witty. I drink, Mistress Annette, in a, cup of -Rudes- 
 heimer, to the continuance of her sagacity, and of your amiable 
 
276 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 liveliness of disposition. Will it please you, fair mistress, to 
 pledge me in this generous liquor ? " 
 
 " Out, thou German wine-flask ! — Out, thou eternal swill- 
 flagon !— Heard you ever of a modest maiden who drank wine 
 before she had dined ? " 
 
 " Remain without the generous inspiration, then," said the 
 German, " and nourish thy satirical vein on sour cider or acid 
 whey." 
 
 A short space having been allowed to refresh themselves, 
 the little parly again mounted their horses, and traveled with 
 such speed, that long before noon they arrived at the strongly--' 
 fortified town of Kehl, opposite to Strassburg,- on the eastern 
 bank of the Rhine. ' 
 
 It is for local antiquaries to discover whether the travelers 
 crossed from Kehl to Strassburg by the celebrated bridge of 
 boats which at present maintain the communication across the 
 river, or whether they were wafted over by some other mode of 
 transportation. It is enough that they passed in safety, and 
 had landed on the other side, where — whether she dreaded 
 that he might forget the charge she had given him, that here 
 they were to separate, or whether she thought that something 
 more might be said in the moment of partings — the young 
 Baroness, before remounting her horse, once more approached 
 Arthur Philipson; who too truly guessed the tenor of what ■she 
 had to say. 
 
 " Gentle stranger,'' she said, " I must now bid you fare- 
 well. But first let me ask if you know whereabouts you are to 
 seek your father ? " 
 
 " In an inn called the Flying Stag," said Arthur, detected- 
 ly ; " but where that is situated in this large town I know not." 
 
 " Do you know the place, Ital Schreckenwald ?" 
 
 " I, young lady ? — Not I— I know nothing of Strassburg and 
 i its inns. I believe most of our party are as ignorant as I am." 
 
 " You and they speak German, I suppose," said the Baron- 
 ess, dryly, " and can make inquiry more easily than a foreigner ? 
 Go, sir, and forget not than humanity to the stranger is a re- 
 ligious duty." 
 
 With that shrug of the shoulders which testifies a dis- 
 pleased messenger, Ital went to make some inquirer, and, in 
 his absence, brief as it was, Anne took an opportunity to sav 
 apart — " Farewell ! — Farewell ! Accept this token of friend'- 
 Ship, and wear it for my sake. May you be happy ! " 
 
 Her slender fingers dropped into his hand a' very small 
 parcel. He turned to thank her, but she was already at some 
 distance; and Schreckenwald, who had taken his place by his 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 277 
 
 side, said in his harsh voice, "Come, Sir Squire, I have found 
 out your place of rendezvous, and I have but little time to play 
 the gentleman-usher." 
 
 He then rode on ; and Philipson, mounted on his military 
 charger, followed him in silence to the point where a large 
 street joined, or rather crossed, that v/hich led from the quay 
 on which they had landed. 
 
 " Yonder swings the Flying Stag," said Ital, pointing to an 
 immense sign, which,, mounted on a huge wooden frame, 
 crossed almost the whole breadth of the street. "Your intelli- 
 gence can, I think, hardly abandon you, with such a guide-post 
 in your eye." 
 
 So saying, he turned hiS" horse without further farewell, 
 and rode back to join his mistress and her, attendants. 
 
 Philipson's eyes rested on the same group for a moment, 
 when he was recalled to a sense of his situation by the thoughts 
 of his father ; and, spurring his jaded horse down the cross 
 street, he reached the hostelry of the Flying Stag. 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH. 
 
 I was, I must confess. 
 
 Great Albion's Queen in former golden days ; 
 But now mischance hath trod my title down. 
 And with dishonor-laid me on the ground ; 
 Where I must take like seat unto my fortune, 
 And to my humble seat conform myself. 
 
 Henry IV, Part HI. 
 
 The hostelry of the Flying Stag, in Strassburg, was, like 
 every inn in the empire at that period, conducted with much 
 the same discourteous inattention to, the wants and accommo- 
 dation of the guests, as that of John Mengs. But the youth 
 and good looks of Arthur Philipson, circumstances which sel- 
 dom or never fail to produce, some effect where the fair are 
 concerned, prevailed iipon a short, plump,' dimpled, bluereyed-, 
 f air-skined yungfrou, the daughter of the landlord of the Flyipg 
 Stag (himself a fat old man, pinned to the oaken chair in the 
 stube), to carry herself to the young Englishman with a degree 
 of condescension, which, in the privileged race to which she 
 belonged, was little short of degradation. She not only put her 
 light buskins and her pretty ankles in danger of being soiled 
 by tripping across the yard to point out an unoccupied stable, 
 
278 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 but, on Arthur's inquiry after his father, condescended to rec- 
 ollect that such a guest as he described had lodged' in the 
 house last night, and had said he expected to meet there 
 a young person, his fellow-traveler. 
 
 " 1 will send him out to you, fair sir," said the little yung- 
 frou, with a smile, which, if things of the kind are to be valued 
 by their rare occurrence, must have been reckoned inestimable. 
 
 She was as good as her word. In a few instants the elder 
 Philipson entered the stable, and folded his son in his arms. 
 
 " My soh — my dear son ! " said the Englishman, his usual 
 stoicism broken down and melted by natural feeling and par- 
 ental tenderness, — " Welcome to me at all times — welcome, in 
 a period of doubt and danger — and most welcome of all, in a 
 moment which forms" the very crisis of our fate. In a few 
 hours I shall know what we may expect from" the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy. — Hast thou the token ! " 
 
 ' Arthur's hand first soiight that which was nearest to his 
 heart, both in' the literal and allegorical sense — the sinall par- 
 cel, namely, which Anne had given him at parting. But he 
 recollected himself in the instant, and presented to his father 
 the packet, which had been so strangely lost and recovered at 
 La Ferette. 
 
 " It hath run its own risk since you saw it," he observed to 
 his father, " and so have I mine. I received hospitality at a 
 castle last night, and behold a body of lanz-knechts in the 
 neighborhood began in the morning to mutiny for their pay. 
 The inhabitants fled from the castle to escape their violence, 
 and as we passed their leaguer in the gray of the morning, a 
 drunken Baaren-hauter shot my poor horse, and I was forced, 
 in the way of exchange, to take up with his. heavy Flemish ani- 
 mal, with its steel saddle, and its clumsy cbaffron." 
 
 " Our road is beset with perils," said his father. " I too 
 have had my share, haVing been in great danger " (he told not 
 its precise nature) " at an inn, where I rested last night. Biit 
 I left it in the morning, and proceeded hither in safety. I have 
 at length, however, obtained a safe escort to Conduct me to the 
 Duke's camp near Dijon ; and I trust to have an audience of 
 him this fevening. Then, if our last hope should fail, we will 
 seek the seaport of Marseilles, hoist sail for Candia or for 
 Rhodes, and spend our lives in defence of Christendom, since 
 ■we may no longer fight for England." 
 
 Arthur heard these ominous words without reply ; but they 
 did not the less sink upon his heart, deadly as the doom of the 
 judge which secludes the criminal from'society and all its jovs, ' 
 and condemns him to an eternal prison house. The bells from 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 379 
 
 the cathedral began to toll at this instant, and reminded the 
 elder Philipson of the duty of hearing mass, which was said at 
 all hours in some one or other of the .separate chapels which 
 are contained in that .magnificent pile. His son followed, on 
 an intimation of his pleaspre. , 
 
 ' In approaghing the access to this superb cathedra], the 
 travelers found it obstructed,, as is usual in Catholic countries, 
 bv the number of mendicants of both sexes, who crowded round 
 the entrance to give the worshippers an opportunity of discharg- 
 ing the duty of alms-giving, so positively enjoined as a chie"!'- 
 observance of their Church. The Englishmen extricated them- 
 selves from their importunity by bestowing, as is usual on such 
 occasions, a donative of small coin upon those who appeared, 
 most needy, of most deserving of their charity. Qne tall woman 
 stood on the steps close to the door, and extended hor hand to 
 the elder Philipson, who, struct with her appearance, exchanged 
 for a piece of silver the copper coins which he had been dis^ 
 tributlng amongst others. 
 
 " A marvel ! " she said, in the English language; but in a 
 tone calculated only to be heard by him alone, although his son 
 also caught the sound and sense of what she said,— •" Ay, a 
 miracle ! — rAn Englishmen still possesses a silver piece, and can 
 afford to bestow it on the poor 1 " 
 
 Arthur was sensible that his father started somewhat at the 
 voice or words, which bore, even in his ear, something of deeper 
 import than the observation of an ordinary mendicant. - But 
 after a glance at the female who thus addressed him, his father 
 passed onward into the body of the church, and was soon 
 engaged in attending to the solemn ceremony of the mass, as it 
 was performed by a priest at the altar of a chapel, divided from 
 the main body of the splendid edifice, and dedicated, as it 
 appeared from the image over the- altar, to Saint George ; that 
 military Saint, whose real history is so obscure, though his 
 popular, legend rendered him an object of peculiar veneration 
 during the feudal ages. The ceremony was begun and finished 
 with all customary forms. The officiating priest, with his attend- 
 ants withdrew, and though some of the few worshippers who 
 had assisted at the solemnity remained telling their beads, and 
 occupied with the performance of their private devotions, far the 
 greater part left the chapel to visit other shrines, or to return 
 to the prosecution of their secular affairs. ' 
 
 But Arthur Philipson remarked, that whilst they dropped of? 
 one after .another, the tall woman who had received his father's 
 alms continued to kneel near the altar ; and he was yet more 
 surprised' to see that his father himself, who, he had many 
 
28o ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 reasons to know, was desirous to spend in the church no more 
 time then the duties of devotion absolutely claimed, remained 
 also on his knees, with his eyes resting on the form of the 
 veiled devotee (such she seemed from her dress), as if his own 
 motions were to be guided by hers. By no idea which occurred 
 to him, was Arthur able to form the least conjecture as to his 
 father's motives^ — he only knew that he was engaged in a critical 
 and dangerous negotiation, liable to influence or interruption 
 from various quarters ; and that political suspicion was so gen- 
 erally awake both in France, Italy, and Flanders, that the most 
 important agents were often obliged to assume the most impen- 
 etrable disguises, in order to insinuate thernselves without sus- 
 picion into the countries where their services wei-e required. 
 Louis XI. in particular, whose singular policy seemed in some 
 degree to give a character to the age in which he lived, was well 
 known to have disguised his principal emissaries and envoys in 
 the fictitious garbs of medicant moriks, minstrels, gj'psies, and 
 other privileged wanderers of the meanest description. 
 
 Arthur concluded, therefore, that it was not improbable that 
 this female might, like themselves, be something more than her 
 dress imported ; and he resolved to observe his father's deport- 
 ment toward her, and regulate his own actions accordingly. 
 A bell at last announced that rnass, upon a more splendid scale, 
 was about to be celebrated before the high altar of the cathe- 
 dral itself, and its sound withdrew from the sequestered chapel 
 of St. George the few who had remained at the shrine of the 
 military saint, excepting the father and son, and the female pen- 
 itent who kneeled opposite to them. When the last of the wor- 
 shippers had retired, the female arose and advanced toward the 
 elder Philipson, who, folding his arms on his bosom, and stoop- 
 ing his head, in an attitude of obeisance which his son had 
 never before seen him assume, appeared rather to wait what she 
 had to say, than to propose addressing her. 
 
 There was a pause. Four lamps, lighted before the shrine 
 of the saint, cast a dim radiance on his armor and steed, repre- 
 sented as he was in the act of transfixing with his lance the 
 prostrate dragon, whose outstretched wings and writhing neck 
 were in part touched by their beams. The rest of the chapel 
 was dimly illuminated by the autumnal sun, which could scarce 
 find its way through the stained panes of the small lanceolated 
 window, which was its only aperture to the open air. The 
 light fell doubtful and gloomy, tinged with the various hues 
 through which it passed, upon the stately, yet somewhat broken 
 and. dejected form of the female, and on those of the melancholy 
 and anxious father, and his son, who, with all the eager inter 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 281 
 
 est of youtli, suspected and anticipated extraordinary conse- 
 quences from- so sipgukr an interview. 
 
 At length the female approached to the same side of the 
 shrjne with Arthur and his father, as if to be more distinctly 
 heard, without being obliged to raise the slow solemn voice in 
 which she had spoken. 
 
 " Do you here worship," she said, " the St. George of Bur- 
 gundy, ' or the 1 St. George of merry England, the flower of 
 chivalry ? " 
 
 " I serve," said Philipson, folding his hands humbly on 
 his bosom, " the saint to whom this chapel is dedicated, and 
 the Deity with whom I hope for his holy intercession, whether 
 here or in my native country." 
 
 " Ay — you," said the female,, " even you can forget — you, 
 even you, who have been numbered among the mirror of knight- 
 hood — can forget that you have worshipped in the royal fane 
 of Windsor — that you have there bent a gartered knee, where 
 kings and princes kneeled around you — you can forget this, 
 and make your orisons at a foreign shrine, with a heart undis- 
 turbed with the thoughts of what you have been,-;— praying, like 
 some poor peasant, for bread and life during the day that 
 passes over you." 
 
 " Lady," replied Philipson, " in my proudest hours, I was, 
 before the Being to whom I preferred my prayers, but as a 
 worm in the dust — In His eyes I am now neither less nor more, 
 degraded as I may be in the opinion of; my fellow reptiles." 
 
 " How canst thou think thus ? "said the devotee ; "and yet 
 it is well with thee that thou canst. But what have thy losses 
 been, compared to mine ! " 
 
 She put her hand to her brow, and seemed for a moment 
 overpowered by agonizing recollections. 
 
 Arthur pressed to his father's side, and inquired, in a tone 
 of interest which could not be repressed,, " Father, who is this 
 lady ? — Is it my mother ? " 
 
 " No my son," answered Philipson ; — " peace, for the sake 
 of all you hold dear or holy ! " 
 
 The singular female, however, heard both the question and 
 answer, though expressed in a whisper. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " young man — I am — I should say I was 
 — your mother; the mother, the protectress, of dU that, was 
 noble in England — I am Margaret of Anjou." 
 
 Arthur sank on his knees before the dauntless widow of 
 Henry the Sixth, wlio so long, and in such desperate circum- 
 stances, upheld by unyielding courage and deep policy the 
 sinking- cause of her feeble husband; and who, if she occa- 
 
282 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 sionally abused victory by cruelty and revenge, had made some 
 atonement by the indomitable resolution with which she had 
 supported the fiercest storms of adversity. Arthur had been 
 bred, in devoted adhereftce to the now dethroned line of Lan- 
 caster, of which -his father was one of the most distinguished 
 supporters; and his earliest deeds of arms, which, though un- 
 fortunate, were neither obscure nor ignoble, had been done in 
 1 their cause. With an enthusiasm belonging to his age and 
 r education, he in the same instant flung his bonnet on the pave- 
 ment, and knelt at the feet of his ill-fated sovereign. 
 
 Margaret threw back the veil which condealed those noble 
 and majestic features, which even yet, — though rivers of tears 
 had furrowed her cheeks — though care, disappointment, domes- 
 tic grief, and humbled pride, had quenched the fire of her eye, • 
 and wasted the smooth dignity of her forehead — even yet 
 showed the remains of that beauty which once was held un- 
 equaled in Europe. The apathy with which a succession of 
 misfortunes and disappointed hopes had chilled the feelings of 
 the unfortunate Princess, was for a moment melted by the sight 
 of the fair youth's enthusiasm. She abandoned one hand to 
 him, which he covered with' tears and kisses, and*with the other 
 stroked with maternal tenderness his curled locks, as she en- 
 deavored to raise him from the posture he had assumed. His 
 father, in the meanwhile, shut the door of the chapel, and 
 placed his back against it, withdrawing himself thus from the 
 group, as if for the piilrpose of preventiiig any stranger from 
 entering during a scend so extraordinary. 
 
 " And thou, then," said Margaret, in a voice where female 
 tenderness combated strangely with her natural pride of rank, 
 aiid with the calm, stoical indifference induced by the intensity 
 of her personal misfortunes ; " thou, fair youth, art the last 
 scion of the' noble stem, so many fair boughs of which have 
 fallen in our hapless cause. Alas, alas ! what can I do for thee .' 
 Margaret has not even a blessing to bestow ! So wavw^ard is 
 her fate, that her beiifedictions are curses, and she has but to 
 look on you, and wish you well, to ensure your speedy and utter 
 ruin. I — I'have been the fatal poison-tree, whose irtfluencehas 
 blighted and destroyed all the fair plants that arose beside and 
 around me, and brought death upon every one, yet am myself 
 unable to find it ! " 
 
 " Noble and royal mistress," said the elder Englishman, 
 "let not your princely courage, which has borne such extrem- 
 ities, be dismayed, now that they are passed over, and that a 
 chance at least of happier times is approaching to you and to 
 England." 
 
' ANNE OF GEIERsmiN. 283 
 
 " To England, to me, noble Oxford ! " said the forlorn and 
 widowed Queen. — " If to-morrow's sun could place me once 
 more on the throne of England, could it give back to me what 
 I have lost ? I speak not of wealth or power — they are as 
 nothing in the balance — I speak not of the hosts of noble 
 friends who have fallen in defence of me and mine — Somersets, 
 Percys, Staffords, Cliffords — they have found their place in 
 • fame, in the annals of their country — I speak rot of my hus- 
 jband, he has exchanged the state of a suffering saint wpon 
 earth, for that of a glorified saint in Heaven — ^But O' Oxford,! 
 ir.y son — my Edward ! — Is it possible for me to look on this 
 youth, and not remember that thy countess and I on the same 
 night gave birth to two fair boys ? How oft we endeavored to 
 prophesy their future fortunes, and to persuade ourselves that 
 the same cbnstellation which shone on their birth, would in- 
 fluence their succeeding life, and hold a friendly and equal bias 
 till they readied some destined goal of happiness and honor? 
 Tliy Arthur lives ; but, alas ! my EdWard, born under the same 
 auspices, fills a bloody grave ! " 
 
 She wrapped her head in her mantle, as if to stifle the com- 
 plaints and groans which maternal affection poured forth at 
 these cruel recollections. Philipson, or the exiled Earl of 
 Oxford, as we may now term him, distinguished in those 
 changeful times by the steadiness with which he had' always 
 maintained his loyalty to the line of Lancaster, saw the 
 imprudence of indulging his sot-ereign in her weakness. 
 
 " Royal mistress," he said, " life's journey is that of a brief 
 winter's day, and its course will run on, whether we avail our- 
 selves of its progress or no. My sovereign is, I trust, too much 
 mistress of herself to suffer lamentation for what is past to 
 deprive her of the power of using the present time. I am here 
 in obedience to •foxxX: command ; I am to see Burgundy forth- 
 with, and if I find him pliant to the purpose to which we would - 
 turn him, events may follow which will change into gladness 
 our, present mourning. But we must use our opportunity with 
 speed as well as zeal. Let me know then, madam, for what 
 reason your Majesty hath come hither, disguised and in danger ? 
 Surely it was not merely to weep over this young man, that the 
 high-minded Queen Margaret left her father's courts disguised 
 herself in mean attire, and came from a place of safety to one 
 of doubt at least, if not of danger ? " 
 
 "You mock me, Oxford," said the unfortunate Queen, "or 
 you deceive yourself, if you think you still serve that Margaret 
 tvhose word was never spoken without a reason, and whose 
 slightest action was influenced by a 'motive. Alas !' I am no 
 
284 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 longer the same firm and rational being. The feverish char- 
 acter of grief, while it makes one place hateful to me, drives 
 me to another in very impotence and impatience of spirit. My 
 father's residence, thou say'st, is safe ; but is it tolerable for 
 such a soul as mine ? Can one who has been deprived of the 
 noblesjt and richest kingdom of Europe-^one who has lost 
 hosts of noble friends — one who is a widowed consort, a child- 
 less mother — one upon whose head Heaven hath poured forth 
 its last vial of unmitigated wrath — can she stoop to be the com- 
 panion of a weak old man, who, in sonnets and in music, in 
 mummery and folly, in harping and rhyming, finds a comfort 
 for all that poverty has that is distressing; and, what is still 
 worse, even a solace in all that is. ridiculous and contemptible ? " 
 
 " Nay, with your leave, madam," said her counselor, "blame 
 not the good King Rend, because^ persecuted by fortune, he 
 has been able to find out for himself humbler sources of solace 
 which your prouder spirit is disposed to disdain. A contention 
 among' his minstrels has for him the animation of a knightly 
 combat ; and a crown of flowers, twined by his troubadours, 
 and graced by their sonnets, he accounts a valuable compen- 
 sation for the diadems of Jerusalem, of Naples, and of both 
 Sicilies, of which he only possesses the empty titles." 
 
 " Speak not to me of the pitiable old man," said Margaret ; 
 " sunk below even the hatred of his worst enemies, and never 
 thought worthy of anything more than contempt. I tell thee, 
 noble Oxford, I' have been driven nearly mad with my forced 
 residence at Aix, in the paltry circle which he calls his court, 
 My ears, turned as they now are only to sounds of afHiclion, are 
 not so weary of the eternal tinkling of harps, and squeaking of 
 rebecks, and, snapping of castanets — my eyes are not so tired of 
 the beggarly affectation of court ceremonial, which is only respect- 
 able when it implies wealth and. expresses po'wer — as my very 
 soul is sick of the paltry ambition which can find pleasure in 
 spangles, tassels, and trumpery, when the reality of all that is 
 great and noble hath passed away. No, Oxford, if I am doomed 
 to lose the last cast which fickle fortune seems to offer me, I will 
 retreat into the meanest convent in the Pyrenean hills, and at 
 least escape the insult of the idiot gayety of my father. — Let him 
 pass from our memory as from the page of history, in which his 
 name will never be recorded. I have much of more importance 
 both to hear and to tell. — And now, my' Oxford, what news from 
 Italy ? Wilt the Duke of Milan afford Us assistance with his 
 counsels or with his treasures ? " 
 
 " With his counsels willingly, madam ; but how you will 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTETN. 285 
 
 relish them I know not, since he recommends to us submission 
 to our hapless fate, and resignation to the will of Providence." 
 
 " The wily Italian 1 Will not, then, GaleaSso advance any 
 part of his hoards, orassist a friend, to whom he hath in his 
 time full often sworn faith ? " 
 
 "Not even the diamonds which I offered to deposit in his 
 hands," answered the earl, "could make him unlock his 
 treasury to supply us with ducats for our enterprise. Yet he 
 said if Charles of Burgundy should think seriously of an exer- 
 tion in our favor, such was his regard for that great prince, 
 and Jiis deep sense of your majesty's misfortunes, that he would 
 consider what the state of hi?' exchequer, though much ex- 
 hausted, and the condition of his subjects, though impoverished 
 by taxes and talliages, would permit him to advance in your 
 behalf." > , 
 
 " The double-faced hypocrite ! " said Margaret. "If the 
 assistance of the princely Burgundy lehds us- a chance of 
 regaining what is our own, then he will. give us some paltry 
 parcel of crowns, that our restored prosperity may forget his 
 indifference to our adversity ! — But what of Burgundy ? I have 
 ventured hither to tell you what I have learned, and to hear 
 report of your proceedings — a trusty watch provides for the 
 secrecy of our interview. My impatience to see you brought 
 me hither in this mean disguise. I have a small retinue at a 
 convent a mile beyond the town — I have had your arrival 
 watched by the faithful Lambert^and now I come to know 
 your hopes or your fears, and to tell you my own." 
 
 "Royal ladvj" said the Earl; "I have not seen the Duke. 
 You know his temper to be wilful, sudden, haughty and un- 
 persuadable. If he can adopt the calm and sustained policy 
 which the times require, I little doubt-his obtaining full amends 
 of Louis, his sworn enemy, and even of Edward his ambitious 
 brother-in-law. But if he continues to yield to extravagant 
 fits of passion, with or without provocation, he may hurry into 
 a quarrel with the poor but hardy Helvetians, and is likely to 
 engage in a perilous contest, in which he cannot be expected to 
 gain anything, while he undergoes a chance of the most serious 
 losses." 
 
 " Surely," replied the Queen, " he will not trust the usurper 
 Edward, even in the very moment when he is giving the greatest 
 proof of treachery to his alliance ? " 
 
 " In what respect, madam ? " replied Oxford. " The news you 
 allude to has not reached me." 
 
 "How, my lord ? Am I then the first , to tell you, that 
 Edward of York has crossed the sea with such an army, as 
 
286 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 scarce even the renowned Henry V., mr father-in-law, ever 
 transported from France to Italy ? " 
 
 " So much I have indeed heard was expected," said Oxford, 
 " and I anticipated the effect as fatal to our cause." 
 
 " Edward is arrived," said Margaret, " and the traitor and 
 usurper hath sent defiance to Louis of France, and demanded 
 of liim the crown of that kingdom as his own right — that crown 
 which was placed on tlie head of my unhappy husband, wlien 
 he was yet a child in the cradle." 
 
 " It is then decided — the English are in France 1 " answered, 
 Oxford, in a tone expressive of the deepest anxiety. — " And 
 whom brings Edward with him "on this expedition ? " 
 
 " All — all the bitterest enemies of our house and cause — The 
 false, the traitorous, the dishonored George, whom he calls 
 Duke of Claretice — the blood-drinker, Richard — the licentious 
 Hastings — Howard — Stanley — in a word, the leaders of all 
 those traitors whom I would not name, unless by doing so my 
 curses could sweep them from the face of the earth." 
 
 " And — I tremble to ask," said the Earl — " Does Burgundy 
 prepare to join them as a brother of the war, and make common 
 cause witli this Yorkish host against King Louis of France ? " 
 
 "By my advices," replied the Queen, "and they are both 
 private and sure, besides that they are confirmed by the bruit 
 of common fame — No, my good Oxford, no ! " 
 
 " For that may the saints be praised!" answered Oxford. 
 " Edward of .Yorkv— I will not malign even an enemy — is a 
 bold and fearless leader^But he is neither Edward the Third, 
 nor the heroic Black Prince — nor is he that fifth Henry of 
 Lancaster, under whom I won my spurs, and to whose lineage 
 the thoughts of his glorious memory would J have made me 
 faithful, had my plighted vows of allegiance ever permitted 
 me to entertain a thought of varying, or of defection. Let 
 Edward engage in war with Louis -(vithout the, aid of Bur- 
 gundy, on which he has reckoned. Louis is indeed no hero, 
 but he is a cautious and skilful general, more to be dreaded, 
 perhaps, in these politic days, than if Charlemagne could again 
 raise the Oriflamme, surrounded by Roland and all his pala- 
 dins. Louis will not hazard such fields as those of Cressy, of 
 Poictiers, or of Agincourt. With a thousand lances from Hain- 
 ault, and twenty thousand crowns from Burgundy, Edward shall 
 risk the loss of England, wMle he is engaged in a protracted 
 struggle for the recovery of Normandy and Guienne. But what 
 are the movements of Burgundy ? " 
 
 "He has menaced Germany," said Margaret, "and his 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 287 
 
 troops are now employed in overrunning Lorraine, of which he 
 has seized the principal towns and castles." 
 
 " Where is Ferrand de Vaudemont — a youth, it is said, of 
 courage and enterprise, and claiming Lorraine in right of his 
 mother, Yolande of Anjou, the sister of your Grace ? " 
 
 " Fled," replied the Queen, " into Germany or Helvetia." 
 
 " Let Burgundy beware of him," said the experienced Earl ; 
 " for should the disinherited youth obtain confederates in Ger- 
 many, and allies among the hardy Swiss, Charles of Burgundy 
 may find him a far more formidable enemy than he expects. 
 We are strong for the present, only in the Duke's strength, and 
 if it is wasted in idle and desultory efforts, our hopes, alas! 
 vanish with his power, even if he should be found to have the 
 decided will to assist us. My friends in E^ngland are resolute 
 not to stir without men and money from Burgundy." 
 
 " It is a fear," said Margaret, " but not our worst fear. I 
 dread more the policy of Louis, who, unless my espials have 
 grossly deceived me, has even already proposed a secret peace 
 to Edward, offering with large sums of money to purchase Eng- 
 land to the Yorkists, and a truce of seven years." 
 
 " It cannot be," said Oxford. " No Englishman, command- 
 ing such an army as Edward must now lead, dares for very 
 shame to retire from France without a manly attempt to recover 
 his lost provinces." 
 
 " Such would have been the thoughts of a rightful prince," 
 said Margaret, " who left behind him an obedient and faithful 
 kingdom. Such may not be the thoughts of this Edward, mis- 
 named Plantagenet, base perhaps in mind as in blood, since 
 they say his real father was one Blackburn, an archer of Mid- 
 dleham — usurper, at least, if not bastard — such will not be his 
 thoughts.* --Every breeze that blows from England will bring 
 with it apprehensions of defection amongst those over whom 
 he has usurped authority. He will not sleep in peace till he 
 returns to England with those cut-throats, whom he relies upon 
 for the defence of his stolen crown. He will engage in no war 
 with Louis, for Louis will not hesitate to soothe his pride by 
 humiliation — to gorge his avarice and pamper his voluptuous 
 prodigality by sums of gold — and I fear much we shall soon 
 hear of the English army retiring from France with the idle 
 boast, that they have displayed their banners once more, for a 
 week or two, in the provinces which were formerly their own." 
 
 " It the more becomes us to be speedy in moving Burgundy' 
 to decision," replied Oxford ; " and for that purpose I post to 
 
 * The Lancastrian party threw the imputation of bastardy (which was 
 totally unfounded) upon Edward IV. 
 
288 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Dijon. Such an army as Edward's cannot be transported over 
 the narrow seas in several weeks. The probability is, that they 
 must winter in France, even if they should have truce with 
 King Louis. With a thousand Hainault lances from the east- 
 ern part of Flanders I can be soon in the North, where we have 
 many fridnds, besides the assurance of help from Scotland. 
 The faithful west will rise at a signal — a Clifford can be found, 
 though the mountain mists have hid him from Edward's re- 
 searches — the Welsh will assemble at the rallying word of 
 Tudor — the Red Rose raises its head once more — and so, God 
 save King Henry ! " 
 
 " Alas ! " said the Queen — " But no husband — no friend of 
 mine — the son but of my mother-in-law by a Welsh chieftain 
 — cold, they say, and crafty — But be it so — let me only see 
 Lancaster triumph, and obtain revenge upon York, and I will 
 die contented ! " 
 
 , " It is then your pleasure that I should make the proffers 
 expressed' by your Grace'sformer mandates, to induce Burgundy 
 to stir himself in our cause ? If he learns the proposal of a 
 truce betwixt France and England, it will sting sharper than 
 aught I can say." 
 
 " Promise all, however," said the Queen. " I know his in- 
 most soul — it is set upon extending the dominions of his House 
 in every direction. For this he has seized Gueldres — for this 
 he now overruns and occupies Lorraine— forthis he covets such 
 poor remnants of Provence as my father still calls his own. 
 With such augmented territories, he proposes to exchange his 
 ducal diadem for an arched crown of independent sovereignty. 
 Tell the Duke, Margaret can assist his views — tell him, that 
 my father Rend shall disown the opposition made to the Duke's 
 seizure of Lorraine — He shall do more — ^lie shall declare Charles 
 his heir in Provence, with my ample consent — tell him, the old 
 man shall cede his dominions to him upon the instant that his 
 Hainaulters embark for England, some small pension deducted 
 to "maintain a concert of fiddlers, and a troop of morrice-dancers. 
 These are Rent's only earthly wants. Mine are still fewer — 
 Revenge upon York, and a speedy grave ! — For the paltry gold 
 which we may need, thou hast jewels to pledge — For the" o"ther 
 conditions, security if required." 
 
 " For these, madam, I can pledge my knightly word, in ad- 
 dition to your royal faith ; and if more is required, my son 
 shall be a hostage with Burgundy." 
 
 " Oh, no — no ! " exclaimed the dethroned Queen, touched by 
 perhaps the only tender feeling, which repeated and extraordi- 
 nary misfortunes had not chilled into insensibility, — " Hazard 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 289 
 
 not the life of the noble youth — he that is the last of the loyal 
 and faithful House of Vera — he that should have been the 
 brother-in-arms of my beloved Edward — he that had so nearly 
 been his companion in a bloody and untimely grave ! Do not 
 involve this poor child in these fatal intrigues, which have been 
 so baneful to his family. Let him go with me. Him at least 
 I will shelter from danger whilst I live, and provide for when I 
 am no more." 
 
 " Forgive me, madam," said Oxford, with the firmness which 
 distinguished him. " My son, as you deign to recollect, is a De 
 Ver'e, destined, perhaps, to be the last of his name. Fall he 
 may, but it must not be without honor. To whatever dangers 
 his duty and allegiance call him, be it from sword or lance, axe 
 or gibbet, to these he must expose himself frankh', when his 
 doing so can mark his allegiance. His ancestors have shown 
 him how to brave them all." 
 
 " True, true," exclaimed the unfortunate Queen, raising her 
 arms wildh', — "All must perish — all that have honored Lan- 
 caster — all that have loved Margaret, or whom she has loved I 
 The destruction must be universal — the young must fall with 
 the old — not a lamb of the scattered flock shall escape ! " 
 
 " For God's sake, gracious madam," said Oxford, " compose 
 yourself ! — I hear them knock on the chapel door." 
 
 " It is the signal of parting," said the exiled Queen, collect- 
 ing herself. " Do not fear, noble Oxford, I am not often thus ; 
 but how seldom do I see those friends, whose faces arid voices 
 can disturb the composure of my despair ! Let me tie this relic 
 about thy neck, good youth, and fear not its evil influence, 
 though you receive it from an ill-omened hand. It was my 
 husband's, blessed by many a prayer, and sanctified by many a 
 holy tear ; even my unhappy hands cannot pollute it. I should 
 have bound it on my Edward's bosom on the dreadful morning 
 of Tewkesbury fight ; but he armed early — went to the field 
 without seeing me, and all my purpose was vain." 
 
 She passed a golden chain round Arthur's neck as she spoke, 
 which contained a small gold crucifix of rich but barbarous 
 manufacture. It had belonged, said tradition, to Edward the 
 Confessor. The knock at the door of the chapel was repeated. 
 
 " We must not tarry," said Margaret ; " let us part here — 
 you for Dijon — I to Aix, my abode of unrest in Provencet 
 Farewell — we may meet in a better hour — yet how can I hope 
 it .' Thus I said on the morning before the fight of St. Albans 
 — thus on the dark dawning of Towton — thus on the yet more 
 bloody field of Tewkesbury — and what was the event >. Yet 
 
290 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 hope is a plant which cannot be rooted out of a noble breast, 
 till the last heart-string crack as it is pulled away." 
 
 So saying, she passed through the chapel door, and mingled 
 in the miscellanebus assemblage of personages who worshipped 
 or indulged in their curiosity, or consumed their idle hours 
 amongst the aisles of the cathedral. 
 
 Philipson and his son, both deeply impressed with the 
 singular interview which had just taken place, returned to their 
 inn, where they found a pursuivant, with the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy's badge and livery, who informed them that if the)' were 
 the English merchants who were carrying wares of value to the 
 court of the Duke, he had orders to afford them the counte- 
 nance of his escort and inviolable character. Under his 
 protection they set out from Strassburg ; but such was the un- 
 certainty of the Duke of Burgundy's motions, and such the 
 numerous obstacles which occurred to interrupt their journey, 
 in a country disturbed by the constant passage of troops and 
 preparations for war, that it was evening on the second day ere 
 they reached the plain near Dijon, on which the whole, or great 
 part of his power, lay encamped. 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FIFTH. 
 
 Thus said the Buke — thus did the Duke infer. 
 
 Richard III. 
 
 The eyes of the elder traveler was well accustomed to 
 sights of martial splendor, yet even he was dazzled with the rich 
 and glorious display of the Butgundian camp, in which, near 
 the walls of Dijon, Charles, the wealthiest prince in Europe, 
 had displayed his own extravagance, and encouraged his fol- 
 lowers to similar profusion. The pavilions of the meanest 
 officers were 0% silk and samite, while those of the nobility and 
 great leaders glittered with cloth of silver, cloth of gold, varie- 
 gated tapestry, and other precious materials, which in no other 
 situation would have been employed as a cover from the 
 weather, but would themselves have been thought worthy of 
 the most careful protection. The horsemen and infantry who 
 mounted guard, were arrayed in the richest and most gorgeous 
 armor. A, beautiful and very numerous train of artillery was 
 drawn up near the entrance of the camp, and in its commander, 
 Philipsqn (to give the Earl the traveling name to which our 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTETN. 29I 
 
 readers are accustomed) recognized Henry Colvin, an English- 
 man of inferior birth, but distinguished for his skill in conduct- 
 ing these terrible engines, which had of late come into general 
 use in war. The banners and pennons which were displayed 
 by every knight, baron, and man of rank, floated before their 
 tents, and the ,owners of these transitory dwellings sat at the 
 door half-armed, and enjoyed the military contests of the 
 soldiers, in wrestling, pitching the bar, and other athletic 
 exercises. 
 
 Long rows of the noblest horses were seen at picket, pranc- 
 ing and tossing iheir heads, as impatient of the inactivity 
 to which they were confined, or were heard neighing over the 
 provender, which was spread plentifully before them. The 
 soldiers formed joyous groups around the minstrels and stroll- 
 ing jugglers, or were engaged in drinking parties at the sutlers' 
 tent ; others strolled about with folded arms, casting their eyes 
 now and then to the sinking sun, as if desirous that tlie hour 
 should arrive which would put an end to a day unoccupied, and 
 therefore tedious. 
 
 At length the travelers reached, amidst the dazzling varie- 
 ties of this military display, the pavilion of the Duke himself, 
 before which floated heavily in the evening breeze the broad 
 and rich banner, in which glowed the armorial bearings and 
 quarterings of a prince, Duke of six provinces; and Count of 
 fifteen counties, who was, from his power, his disposition, and 
 the success which seemed to attend his enterprise, the general 
 dread of Europe. The pursuivant made himself known to 
 some of the household, and the Englishmen were immediately 
 received with courtesy, though not such as to draw attention 
 upon them, and conveyed to a neighboring tent, the residence 
 of a general officer, which they were given to understand was 
 destined for their accommodation, and where their packages 
 accordingly were deposited, and refreshments offered then). 
 
 " As the camp is filled," said the domestic who, waited upon 
 them, "with soldiers of different nations and uncertain disposi- 
 tions, the Duke of Burgundy, for the safety ot your merchan- 
 dise, has ordered you the protection of a regular sentinel. In 
 the meantime, be in readiness to wait on his Highness, seeing 
 you may look to be presently sent for." 
 
 Accordingly, the elder Philipson was shortly after summoned 
 to the Duke's presence, introduced by a back entrance into the 
 ducal pavilion, and into that*ipart of it which, screened by close 
 curtains and wooden barricades, formed Charles's own separate 
 apartment. The plainness of the furniture, and the coarse 
 apparatus of the Duke's toilet, formed a strong contrast to the 
 
292 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 appearance of the exterior of the pavilion ; for Charles, whose 
 character was in that, as in other things, far from consistent, 
 exhibited in his own person during war an austerity, or rather 
 coarseness of dress, and sometimes of manners also, which was 
 more like the rudeness of a German lanz-knecht, than the 
 bearing of a prince of exalted rank ; while, at the same time, 
 he encouraged and enjoined a great splendor of expense and 
 display amongst his vassals and courtiers, as if to be rudely 
 attired, and to despise every restraint, even of ordinary cere- 
 mony, were a privilege of the sovereign alone. Yet, when it 
 pleased him to assume state in person and manners, none knew 
 better thari Charles of Burgundy how he ought to adorn and 
 demean himself. 
 
 Upon his toilet appeared brushes and combs which might 
 have claimed dismissal as past the term of service, over-worn 
 hats and doublets, dog-leashes, leather belts, and other such 
 paltry- articles ; amongst which lay at random, as it seemed, 
 the great diamond called Sanci, — the three rubies termed the 
 Three Brothers of Antwerp, another great diamond called the 
 Lamp of Flanders, and other precious stones of scarcely inferior 
 value and rarity. This extraordinary display somewhat re- 
 sembled the character of the Duke himself who mixed cruelty 
 with justice, magnanimity with meanness of spirit, economy 
 with extravagance, and liberality with avarice ; being, in fact, 
 consistent in nothing excepting in his obstinate determination 
 to follow the opinion he had once formed, in every situation of 
 things, and through all variety of risks. 
 
 In the midst of the valueless and inestimable articles of his 
 wardrobe and toilet, the, Duke of Burgundy called out. to the 
 English traveler, " Welcome, Herr Philipsoti — welcome, you 
 of a nation whose traders are princes, and their merchants the 
 mighty ones of the earth. What new commodities have you 
 brought to gull us with t You merchants, by St. George, are a 
 wily generation." 
 
 " Faith, no new merchandise I, my lord," answered the elder 
 Englishman ; " I bring but the commodities which I showed 
 your Highness the last time I communicated with j^ou, in the 
 hope of a poor trader, that your Grace may find them more 
 acceptable upon a review, than when you first saw them." 
 
 " It is well, Sir— Philipville, I think they call you ? — ^you 
 are a simple trader, or you take me for a silly purchaser, that 
 you think to gull me with the same wares which I fancied not 
 formerly. Change of fashion, man,-^novelty — is the motto of 
 commerce ; your Lancaster wares have had their day, and I 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 293 
 
 have bought of them like others, and was like enough to have 
 paid dear for them too. York is all the vogue now." 
 
 " It may be so among the vulgar," said the Earl of Oxford ; 
 " but for souls like your Highness, faith, honor, and loyalty 
 are jewels which change of fancy or mutability of taste cannot 
 put out of fashion." 
 
 " Why, it may be, noble Oxford," said the Duke, " that I 
 preserve in my secret mind some veneration for these old- 
 fashioned qualities, else how should I have such regard for 
 your person, in which they have ever been distinguished ? 
 But my situation is painfully urgent, and should I make a 
 false step at this crisis, I might break the purposes of my whole 
 life. - Observe me, Sir Merchant. Here has come over your old 
 competitor, Blackburn, whom some call Edward of York and 
 of London, with a commodity of bows and bills such as never 
 entered France since King Arthur's time; and he offers to 
 enter into joint adventure with me, or in plain speech, to 
 make common cause with Burgundy, till we smoke out of his 
 earths the old fox Louis, and nail his hide to the stable-door. 
 In a word, England invites -me to take part with him against 
 my most wily and inveterate enemy the King of France ; to 
 rid myself of the chain of vassalage, and to ascend into the 
 rank of independent princes ; — how think you, noble Earl, can 
 I forego this seducing temptation .' " 
 
 " You must ask this of some of your counselors of Bur- 
 gundy," said Oxford ; " it is a question fraught too deeply with 
 ruin to my cause, for me to give a fair opinion on it." 
 
 " Nevertheless," said Charles, " I ask thee as an honorable 
 man, what objections you see to the course proposed to me ? 
 Speak your mind, and speak it freely." , 
 
 " My lord, I know it is in your Highness's nature to enter- 
 tain no doubts of the facility of executing anything which you 
 have once determined shall be done. Yet, though this prince- 
 like disposition may in some cases prepare for its own success, 
 and has often done so, there are others, in which persisting in 
 our purpose, merely because we have once willed it, leads not 
 tq success, but to ruin. Look, therefore, at this English army ; 
 winter is approaching, where are they to be lodged ? how are 
 they to be victualed ? by whom are they to be paid ? Is your 
 Highness to take all the expense and labor of fitting them for 
 the summer campaign ? for, rely on it, an English army nevet 
 was, nor will be, fit for service, till they have been out of their 
 own island long enough to accustom them to military duty. 
 They are men. I grant, the fittest for soldiers in the world ; 
 
294 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 but they are not soldiers as yet, and must be trained to become 
 such at your Highness's expense." 
 
 " Be it so," said Charles ; " I think the tow Countries can 
 find fopd for the beef-consuming knaves for a few weeks, and 
 villages for them to lie in, and officers to train their sturdy 
 limbs to war, and provost-marshals enough to reduce their re- 
 fractory spirit to discipline." 
 
 " What happens next ? " said Oxford. " You march to 
 Paris, add to Edward's usurped power another kingdom ; re- 
 store to him all the possessions which England ever had in 
 France, Normandy, Maine, Anjou, Gascony, and all besides. — 
 Can you trust this Edward when you shall have thus fostered 
 liis strength, and made him far stronger than this Louis whom 
 you have united to pull down .?, " 
 
 " By St. Geoi-ge, I will not dissemble with you ! It is in 
 that very point that my doubts trouble me. Edward is indeed 
 my brother-in-law, but I am a man little inclined to put my 
 head under my wife's girdle." 
 
 " And the times," said Philipson, " have too often shown 
 the inefficiency of family alliances to prevent the most gross 
 breaches of faith." 
 
 " You say well, Earl. Clarence betrayed his f ather-iq-law ; 
 Louis poisoned his brother — Domestic aflections, pshaw ! they 
 sit warm enough by a private man's fireside, but they cannot 
 come into fields of battle, or princes' halls, where the wind 
 blows cold. No, my alliance with Edward by marriage were 
 little succor to me in time of need. I would as soon ride an 
 unbroken horse, with no better bridle than a lady's garter. But 
 what then is the result .■" He wars on Louis ; whichever gains 
 the better, I, who must be strengthened in their mutual weak- 
 ness, receive the advantage — The Englishmen slay the French 
 with their cloth-yard shafts, and the Frenchmen, by skirmishes, 
 waste, weaken, and destroy the English. With spring I take 
 the field with an army superior to both, and then, St. George 
 for Burgundy ! " 
 
 " And if, in the meanwhile, your Highness will deign to 
 assist, even in the most trifling degree, a cause the most hoii- 
 orable that ever knight laid lance in rest for, — a moderate sum 
 of money, and a small body pf Hainault lances, who may gain 
 both fame and fortune by the service, may replace the injured 
 heir of Lancaster in the possession of his native and rightful 
 dominion." 
 
 " Ay, marry. Sir Earl," said the Duke, " you come roundly 
 to the point ; but we have seen, and indeed partly assisted at, 
 so many turns betwixt York and Lancaster, that we have some 
 
ANNE OF CEIERSTEJN. 
 
 29s 
 
 doubt which is the side to which Heaven has given the right, 
 and the inclinations of the people the effectual power , we are 
 surprised into absolute giddiness by so many extraordinary 
 revolutions of fortune as England has exhibited." 
 
 " A proof, my lord, that these mutations are not yet ended, 
 and that your generous aid may give to the better side an 
 effectual turn of advantage." 
 
 " And lend my cousin, Margaret of Anjou, my arm to de- 
 throne ray wife's brother ? Perhaps 'he deserves small good- 
 will at my hands, since he and his insolent nobles have been 
 urging me with remonstrances, and even threats, to lay aside 
 all my own important affairs, and join Edward, forsooth^ in his 
 knight-errant expedition against Louis. I will march against 
 Louis at my own time, and not sooner; and, by St. George! 
 neither island king, nor island noble, shall dictate to Charles of 
 Burgundy. You are fine conceited companions, you English 
 of both sides, that think the matters of your own bedlam island 
 are as interesting to all the world as to j-ourselves. But neither 
 York nor Lancaster; neither brother Blackburn, nor cousin 
 Margaret of Anjou, not with John de Vere to, back her, shalj 
 gull me. Men lure no hawks with empty hands." 
 
 Oxford, familiar with the Duke's disposition, suffered him to 
 exhaust himself in chafing, that any one should pretend to 
 dictate his course of conduct, and, when he was at length silent, 
 replied with calmness — " Do I live to hear the noble Duke of 
 Burgfundy, the mirror of European chivalry, say that no reason 
 has been shown to him for an adventure where a helpless queen 
 is to be redressed — a royal house raised from the dust ? Is 
 there not immortal los and honor — the trumpet of fame to pro- 
 claim the sovereign, who, alone in a degenerate age, has united 
 the duties of a generous knight with those of a princely sov- 
 ereign. 
 
 The Duke interrupted him, striking him at the same time on 
 the shoulder — " And King Rent's five hundred fiddlers to tune 
 their cracked violins in my praise ! and King Rend himself to 
 listen to them, and say — ' Well fought, Duke — well played, 
 fiddler ! ' I tell thee, John of Oxford, when thou and I wore 
 maiden armor, such words as fame, honor, los, knightly glory, 
 lady's love, and so forth, were good mottoes for our snow-white 
 shields, and a fair enough argument for splintering lances — Ay, 
 and in tilt-yard, though somewhat old for these fierce follies, I 
 would jeopard my person in such a quarrel yet, as becomes a 
 knight of the order. But when we come to paying down of 
 crowns, and embarking of large squadrons, we must have to 
 propose to our subjects some substantial excuse for plunging 
 
296 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 them in war ; some proposal for the public good, — or, by St. 
 George ! for our own private advantage, which is the same 
 thing. This is the course the world runs, and Oxford, to tell 
 the plain truth, I mean to hold the same bias." 
 
 " Heaven forbid that I should expect your Highness to act 
 otherwise than with a view to your subjects' welfare — the in- 
 crease, that is, as your Grace happily expresses it, of your own 
 power and dominion. The money we "require is not in benevo- 
 lence, but in loan ; and Margaret is willing to deposit these 
 jewels, of which I think your Grace knows the value, till she 
 shall repay the sum which your frieridship may advance in her 
 necessity." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " said the Duke, " would our cousin make a pawn- 
 broker of us, and have us deal with her like a Jewish usurer 
 with his debtor ? — Yet, in faith, Oxford, we may need the 
 diamonds, for if this business were otherwise feasible, it is pos- 
 sible that I myself must become a borrower to aid iny cousin's 
 necessities. I have applied to the States of the Duchy, who 
 are now sitting, and expect, as is reasonable, a large supply. 
 But there are restless heads and close hands among them, and 
 they may be niggardly — So place the jewels on the table in the 
 meanwhile. — Well, say I am to be no sufferer in purse by this 
 feat of knight-errantry which you propose to me, still princes 
 enter riot into war without some view of advantage ? " 
 
 " Listen to me, noble sovereign. You are naturally bent to 
 unite the great estates of your father, and those you. have 
 acquired by your own arms, into a compact and firm duke- 
 dom " 
 
 " Call it kingdom," said Charles ; " it is the worthier word." 
 
 " Into a kingdom, of which the crown shall sit as fair anc' 
 even on your Grace's brow as that of France on your present 
 suzerain, Louis." 
 
 " It needs not such shrewdness as yours to descry that such 
 is my purpose," said the Duke ; " else, wherefore am I here 
 with helm on my head, and sword by my side ? And wherefore 
 are ray troops seizing on the strong places in Lorraine, and 
 chasing before them the beggarly De Vaudemont, who has the 
 insolence to claim it as his inheritance ? Yes, my friend, the 
 aggrandizement of Burgutidy is a theme for which the duke of 
 that fair province is boupd to fight, while he can put foot in 
 stirrup." 
 
 "But think you not," said the English Ear], "since you 
 allow me to speak freely with your Grace, on the footing of old 
 acquaintanceship, think you not that in this chart of your 
 dominions, otherwise so fairly bounded, there is something on 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 297 
 
 the southern frontier which might be arranged more advanta- 
 geously for a Kiftg of Burgundy ? " 
 
 " I cannot guess whither you would lead me," said the Duke, 
 looking at a map of the Duchy and his other possessions, to 
 which the Englishman had pointed his attention, and then turn- 
 ing his broad keen eye upon the face of the banished Earl. 
 
 " I would say," replied the latter, " that, to so powerful a 
 prince as your Grace, there is no safe neighbor but the sea. 
 Here is Provence, which interferes betwixt yoU and the Medit- 
 erranean ; Provence, with its princely harbors, and fertile corn- 
 fields and vineyards. Were it not well to include it in your 
 map of sovereignty, and thus touch the middle sea with one 
 hand, while the other rested on the sea-coast of Flanders ? " 
 
 " Provence, said you ? " — replied the Duke, eagerly ; " why, 
 man, my very dreams are of ProVence. I cannot Smell an 
 orange but it reminds me of its perfumed woods and bowers, 
 its olives, citrons, and pomegranates. But how to frame pre- 
 tensions to it 'i Shame it were to disturb Ren^, the harmless 
 old man, nor would it become a near relation. Then he is the 
 uncle of Louis ; and most probably, failing his daughter Mar- 
 garet, or perhaps in preference to her, he hath named the 
 French King his heir." 
 
 " A better claim might be raised up in yout Grace's own 
 person," said the Earl of Oxford, " if you will afford Margaret 
 of Anjou the succor she requires by me." 
 
 " Take the aid thou requirest," replied the Duke ; " take 
 double the amount of it in men and money ! Let me but 
 have a claim upon Provence, though thin as a single thread of 
 thy Queen Margaret's hair, and let me alone for twisting it into 
 the tough texture of a quadruple cable. — But I am a fool to 
 listen to the dreams of one, who, ruined himself, can lose little 
 by holding forth to others the most extravagant hopes." 
 
 Charles breathed high, and changed complexion as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " I am not such a person, my Lord Duke," said the Earl. 
 " Listen to me — Rend is broken with years, fond of repose, and 
 too poor to maintain his rank with the necessary dignity ; too 
 good-natured, or too feeble-minded, to lay further imposts on 
 his subjects ; weary of contending with bad fortune, and desir- 
 ous to resign his territories " 
 
 " His territories ! " said Charles. 
 
 "Yes, all he actually possesses ; and the much more exten- 
 sive dominions which he had claim to, but which have passed 
 from his sway." 
 
 " You take away my breath ! " said the Duke, " Rend 
 
298 ANNR OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 resign Provence ! and what says Margaret — the proud, the 
 high-minded Margaret — will she subscribe to so humiliating 
 a proceeding ? " 
 
 " For the chance of seeing Lancaster triumph in England, 
 she would resign, not only dominion, but life itself. And in 
 truth, the sacrifice is less than it may seem to be. It is certain 
 that, when Rend dies, the King of France will claim the old 
 man's county of Provence as a male fief, and there is no one 
 strong enough to back Margaret's claim of inheritance, however 
 just it may be." 
 
 " It is just," said Charles ; " it is undeniable ! I will not 
 hear of its being denied or challenged — that is, when once it is 
 established in our own person. It is the true principle of the 
 war for the public good, that none of the great fiefs be suffered 
 to revert again to the crown of France, least of all while it 
 stands on a brow so astucious and unprincipled as that of Louis, 
 Burgundy joined to Provence — a dominion from the German 
 Ocean to the Mediterranean 1 Oxford — thou art my better 
 angel ! " 
 
 " Your Grace must, however, reflect," said Oxford, " that 
 honorable provision must be made for King Rend." 
 
 " Certainly, man, certainly ; he shall have a score of fiddlers 
 and jugglers to play, roar, and recite to him from morning till 
 night. He shall have a court of Troubadours, who shall do 
 nothing but drink, flute, and fiddle to him, and pronounce 
 arrests of love, to be confirmed or reversed by an appeal to him- 
 self, the supreme Roi d^ Amour. And Margaret shall also be 
 honorably sustained, in the manner you may point out." 
 
 " That will be easily settled," answered the English Earl. 
 "If our attempts on England succeed, she will need no aid 
 from burgundy. If she fails, she retires into a cloister, and it 
 will not be long that she will need the honorable maintenance 
 which, I am sure, your Grace's generosity will willingly assign 
 her." 
 
 " Unquestionably," answered Charles ; " and on a scale which 
 will become us both ; — but, by my halidoiiie, John of Vere, the 
 abbess into whose cloister Margaret of Anjou shall retire, will 
 have an ungovernable penitent under her charge. Well do I 
 know her ; and. Sir Earl, I will not clog our discourse by ex- 
 pressing any doubts, that if she pleases, she can compel her 
 father to resign his estates to whomsoever she will. She is like 
 my brache, Gorgon, who compels whatsoever hound is coupled 
 with her to go the way she chooses, or she strangles him if he 
 resists. So has Margaret acted with her simple-min4ed husband, 
 and I am aware that her father, a fool of a different cast, must 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 299 
 
 of necessity be equally tractable. I think /could have matched 
 her, — though my very neck aches at the thought of the struggles 
 we should have had for mastery. But you look grave, because 
 I jest with the pertinacious temper of my unhappy cousin." 
 
 " My lord," said Oxford, " whatever are or have been the de- 
 fects of my mistress, she is in distress, and almost in desolation. 
 She is my sovereign, and your Highness's cousin not the less." 
 
 " Enough said. Sir Earl," answered the Duke. " Let us 
 speak seriously. Whatever we may think of the abdication of 
 King Rend, I fear we shall find it difficult to make Louis XI. 
 see the matter as favorably as we do. He will hold that the 
 county of Provence is a male fief, and that neither the resigna- 
 tion of Rend, nor the consent of his daughter, can prevent its 
 reverting to the crown of France, as the King of Sicily, as they 
 call him, hath no male issue." 
 
 " That, may it please your Grace, is a question for battle to 
 decide ; and your Highness has successfully braved Louis for a 
 less important stake. All I can say is, that if your Grace's 
 active assistance enables the young Earl of Richmond to suc- 
 ceed in his enterprise, you shall have the aid of three thousand 
 English archers, if old John of Oxford, for want of a better 
 leader, were to bring them over himself." 
 
 " A noble aid," said the Duke ; " graced still more by him 
 who promises to lead them. Thy succor, noble Oxford, were 
 precious to me, did you but come with your sword by your side, 
 and a single page at your back. I know you well,' both heart 
 and head. But let us to this gear ; exiles, even the wisest, are 
 privileged in promises, and sometimes — excuse me, noble Ox- 
 ford — impose on themselves as well as on their friends. What 
 are the hopes on which you desire me again to embark on so 
 troubled and uncertain an ocean, as these civil contests of 
 yours ? " 
 
 The Earl of Oxford produced a schedule, and explained to 
 the Du'ie the plan of his expedition, to be backed by an insur- 
 rection of the friends of Lancaster, of which it is enough to say 
 that it was bold to the verge of temerity ; but yet so well com- 
 pacted and put together as to bear in those times of rapid rev- 
 olution, and under a leader of Oxford's approved military skill 
 and political sagacity, a strong appearance of probable success. 
 
 While Duke Charles mused over the particulars of an enter- 
 prise attractive and congenial to his own disposition, — while he 
 counted over the affronts which he had received from his 
 brother-in-law, Edward IV., the present opportunity for taking 
 a signal -evenge, and the rich acquisition which he hoped to 
 make in Provence by the cession in his favor of Ren^ of An jou 
 
300 , ANNE OP GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 and his daughter, the Englishman failed not to press on his 
 consideration the urgent necessity of suffering no time to es- 
 cape. 
 
 "The accomplishment of this scheme," he said, "demands 
 the utmost promptitude. To have a chance of success, I must 
 be in 'England, with your Grace's auxiliary forces, before Ed- 
 ward of York can return from France with his army." 
 
 " And, having come hither," said the Duke, " our worthy 
 brother will be in no hurry to return again. He will meet 
 with black-eyed French women and ruby-colored French wine, 
 and brother Blackburn is no man to leave such coraniodities in 
 a hurry." 
 
 " My Lord Duke, I will speak truth of my enemy. Edward 
 is indolent and luxurious when things are easy around him, but 
 let him feel the spur of necessity, and he becomes as eager as 
 a pampered steed. Louis, too, who seldom fails in finding 
 means to accomplish his ends, is bent upon determining the 
 English King to recross the sea — therefore speed, noble Prince 
 — speed is the soul of your enterprise." ' 
 
 " Speed ! " said ^the Duke of Burgundy,—" Why, I will go 
 with you and see the embarkation myself ; and tried, approved 
 soldiers you shall have, such as are nowhere to be found save 
 in Artois and Hainault." . / 
 
 " But pardon yet, noble Duke, the impatience of a drowijing 
 wi'etch urgently pressing for assistance. — When shall we to'the 
 coast of Flanders, to order this important measure ? " / 
 
 " Why, in a fortnight, or perchance a week, or, in a word, 
 so soon as I shall have chastised to purpose a certain gang of 
 thieves and robbers, who, as the scum of the caldron will al- 
 ways be uppermost, have got up into the fastnesses of thelAlps,— 
 and from thence annoy our frontiers by contraband fraf&c, 
 pillage, and robbery." / 
 
 " Your Highness means the Swiss Confederates ? " \' 
 
 "Ay, the peasant churls give themselves such a name. 
 They are a sort of manumitted slaves of Austria, and like a 
 ban-dog, whose chain is broken, they avail themselvesraf their 
 liberty to annoy and rend whatever comes in their way/" 
 
 " I traveled through their country from Italy, "(said the 
 exiled Earl, " and I heard it was the purpose of the cintons to 
 send envoys to solicit peace of your Highness." j 
 
 " Peace ! " exclaimed Charles. — " A proper sort or peaceful 
 proceedings those of their embassy have been ! Availing 
 themselves of a Hiutiny of the burghers of La Feretta the first 
 garrison town which they entered, they storfned the wafis, seized 
 on Archibald de Hagenisach, who commanded the place on 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 301 
 
 my part, and put him to death in the market-place. Such an 
 insult must be punished, Sir John de Vere; and if you do not 
 see me in the storm of passion which it well deserves, it is 
 because I have already given orders to hang up the base run- 
 agates who call themselves ambassadors." 
 
 " For God's sake, noble Duke," said the Englishman, throw- 
 ing himself at Charles's feet — "for your own character, for the 
 sake of the peace of Christendom, revoke such an order if it is 
 really given ! " 
 
 " What means this, passion ? " said Duke Charles.^ — " What 
 are these men's lives to thee, excepting that the consequences 
 of a war may delay your expedition for a few days ?" 
 
 " May render it altogether abortive," said the Earl; " nay, 
 must needs do so. — Hear me. Lord Duke. I was with these 
 men on a part of their journey." 
 
 "Youl" said the Duke — ''you a companion of the paltry 
 Swiss peasants ? Misfortune has sunk the pride of English 
 nobility to a low ebb, when you selected such associates." 
 
 " I was thrown amongst them by accident," said the Earl. 
 " Some of them are of noble blood, and are, besides, men for 
 vshose peaceable intentions I ventured to constitute myself their 
 warrant." 
 
 " On my honor, my Lord of Oxford, you graced them highly, 
 and me no less, in interfering between the Swiss and myself! 
 Alow me to say that I condescend, when, in deference to past 
 friendship, I permit you to speak to me of your own English 
 aff^rs. Methinks you might well spare me your opinion upon 
 topics with which you have no natural concern." 
 
 " Mv Lord of Burgundy," replied Oxford, " I followed your 
 baniier"to Paris, and had the good luck to rescue you in the 
 fight at Mont L'Hery, when you were beset by the French 
 men-it-arms " 
 
 "We have not forgot it," said Duke Charles; "and' it is a 
 sign that we keep the action in remembrance that you have 
 been suffered to stand before us So long, pleading the cause of 
 a set of rascals, whom we are required to spare from the gal- 
 lows that groans for them, because forsooth they have been the 
 fellow-travelers of the Earl of Oxford ! " 
 
 "Nst so, my lord. I ask their lives only ijecause they are 
 upon apeaceful errand, and the leaders amongst them, at least, 
 have no accession to the crime of which you complain." 
 
 The Duke traversed the apartment with unequal steps,, in 
 much citation, his large eyebrows drawn down over his eyes, 
 his hanis clenched, and his teeth set, until at length he seemed 
 
302 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 to take a resolution. He rung a hand-bell of silver ivhich 
 stood upon his table. 
 
 " Here, Contay," he said to the gentleman of his cliamber 
 who entered, " are these mountain fellows yet executed ? " 
 
 "No, may it please your Highness'; but the executioner 
 waits them so soon as the priest hath confessed them." 
 
 " Let them live," said the Duke. " We will hear to-morrow 
 in what manner "they propose to justify their proceedings 
 toward us." 
 
 Contay bowed and left the apartment ; then, turning to the 
 Englishman, the Duke said, with an indescribable mixture of 
 haughtiness with familiarity and even kindness, but having his 
 brows cleared, and his looks composed, — " We are now clear 
 of obligation, my Lord of Oxford — you have obtained life for 
 life — nay, to make up some inequality which there may be 
 betwixt the value of the commodities bestowed, you have ob- 
 tained six' lives for one. I will, therefore, pay no more atteii' 
 tion to you, should you again upbraid me with the stumbling 
 horse at Mont L'Hery, or your own achievements on that occai- 
 sion. Most princes are contented w^ith privately hating sucjn 
 men as have rendered them extraordinary services — I feel lio 
 such disposition — I only detest being reminded of having had 
 occasion for therh.— Pshaw 1 T am half-choked with the effort 
 of foregoing my own fixed resolution. — So ho ! who waits th^e ? 
 Bring me to drink." 
 
 An usher entered, bearing a large silver flagon, wfch, 
 instead of wine, was filled with tisanne, slightly flavorei by 
 aromatic herbs. 
 
 " I am so hot and choleric by nature," said the Dul^e, /that 
 our leeches prohibit me from drinking wine. But you, Oiford, 
 are bound by no such regimen. Get thee to thy countrrman, 
 Colvin, the general of our artillery. We commend thee to his 
 custody and hospitality till to-morrow, which must be i busy 
 day, since I expect to receive the answer of the.se wiseacres of 
 the Dijon assembly of estates ; and have also to hear fthanlcs 
 to your lordship's interference) these miserable SwissJenvoys, 
 as they call themselves. Well, no more on't. — Goo(l night. 
 You may communicate freely with Colvin, who is, lite your- 
 self, an old Lancastrian. — But hark ye, not a word respecting 
 Provence — not even in your sleep.— rContay, conduct iiis Eng- 
 lish gentleman to Colvin's tent. He knows my pleasurd respect- 
 ing him," 
 
 " So please your Grace," answered Gontay, " I left the 
 English gentlteman's soi} with Monsieur de Colvin." 
 
 " What ! thine own son, Oxfofd ? Apd with th« here ? 
 
ANNE OF GEIERStEIN. 303 
 
 Why did you not tell me of him ? Is he a true scion of the 
 ancient tree ? " 
 
 " It is my pride to believe so, my lord. He has been the 
 faithful companion of all my dangers and wanderings." 
 
 " Happy man ! " said the Duke with a sigh. " You, Oxford, 
 have a son to share your poverty and distress — I have none to 
 be partner and successor to my greatness." 
 
 "You have a daughter, my lord," said the noble De Vere, 
 " and it is to be hoped she will one day wed some powerful 
 prince, who may be the stay of your Highness's house." 
 
 " Never ! By Saint George, never ! " answered the Duke, 
 sharply and shortly. " I will have no son-in-law, who may 
 make the daughter's bed a stepping-stone to reach the father's 
 crown. Oxford, I have spoken more freely than I am wont, 
 perhaps more freely than I ought-^but I hold some men 
 trustworthy, and believe you. Sir John de Vere, to be one of 
 them." 
 
 The English nobleman bowed, and was about to leave his 
 presence, but the Duke presently recalled him. 
 
 " There is one thing more^ Oxford. — The cession of Provence 
 is not quite enough. Rend and Margaret must disavow this 
 hot-brained Ferrand de Vaudemont, who is making some 
 foolish stir in Lorraine, in right of his mother Yolande." 
 
 " My lord," said Oxford,' " Ferrand is the grandson of King 
 Rend, the nephew of Queen Margaret ; but yet " 
 
 " But yet, by Saint George, his rights, as he calls them, on 
 Lorraine, must positively be disowned. You talk of their 
 family feelings, while you are urging me to make war on my 
 own brother-in-law 1 " 
 
 " Rend's best apology for deserting his grandson," answered 
 Oxford, " will be his total inability to support and assist him. 
 I will communicate your Grace's condition, though it is a hard 
 one." 
 
 So saying, he left the pavilion. 
 
304 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXTII. 
 
 I humbly thank your Highness ; 
 And am right glad to catch this good occasion 
 Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff 
 And corn shall fly asunder. 
 
 King Henry VIII. 
 
 CoLviN, the English officer to whom the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy, with splendid pay and appointments, committed the 
 chargp of his artillery, was owner of the tent assigned for the 
 Englishman's lodging, and received the Earl of Oxford with 
 the respect due to his ran.k, and to the Duke^s especial orders 
 upon that subject. He had been himself a follower of the 
 Lancaster faction, and of course was well disposed toward one 
 of the very few men of distinction whom he had known person- 
 all)', and who had constantly adhered -to that family through 
 the train of misfortunes by which they seemed to be totally 
 overwhelmed, A repast, of which his son had already par- 
 taken, was offered to the Earl by Colvin, who omitted not to 
 recommend, by precept and example,- the good wine of Bur- 
 gundy, from which the soverieigu of the province was himself 
 obliged to refrain. 
 
 " His Grace shows command of passion in that," said Colvin. 
 " For, sooth to speak, and only conversing betwixt friends, his 
 temper grows too headlong to bear the spur whigh a cup of 
 cordial beverage gives to the blood, and he, therefore, wisely 
 restricts himself to such liquid as may cool rather than inflame 
 his natural fire of disposition." 
 
 " I can perceive as much," said the Lancastrian noble. 
 "When I first knSw the noble Duke, who was then Earl of 
 Charolois, his temper, though always sufficiently fierv, was 
 •calmness to the impetuosity which he now disp'lavs on the 
 smallest contradiction. Such is the course of an uninterrupted 
 flow of prosperit)^ He has ascended, bv his own courage and 
 the advantage of circumstances, from t4ie doubtful place of a 
 feudatory and tributary prince, to rank with the most powerful 
 sovereigns in Europe, and to assume independent majesty. 
 But I trust the noble starts of generosity, which atoned for his 
 wilful and wayward temper, are not more few than formerly ? " 
 
 " I have good right to Say that they are not," replied the 
 soldier of fortune, who understood generosity in the restricted 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 305 
 
 sense of liberality, " The Duke is a noble and open-handed 
 master." 
 
 " I trust his bounty is conferred on men who are as faith- 
 ful and steady in their service as you, Colvin, have ever been. 
 But I see a change in your army. I know the banners of most 
 of the old' houses in Burgundy — How is it that I observe so 
 few of them in the Duke's camp ? I see flags, and pennons, 
 and pennoncelles ; but even to me, who have been so many 
 years acquainted with the nobility both of France and Flan- 
 ders, their bearings are unknown." 
 
 " My noble Lord of Oxford," answered the officer, "it ill 
 becomes a man who lives on the Duke's pay to censure his con- 
 duct ; but his Highness hath of late trusted too much, as it 
 seems to me, to the hired arms of foreign levies, and too little 
 to his own native subjects and retainers. He holds it better 
 to take into his pay large bands of Germaii and Italian mer- 
 denary soldiers, than to repose confidence in the knights and 
 squires, who are bound to him by allegiance and feudal faith. 
 He uses the aid of his own subjects but as the means of produc- 
 ing him sums of money, which he bestows on his hired troops. 
 The Germans are honest knaves enough while regularly paid; 
 but Heaven preserve me from the Duke's Italian bands, and 
 that Campo-Basso their leader, "who waits but the highest price 
 to sell his Highness like a sheep for the shambles ! " 
 
 "Think you so ill of him ? '' demanded the Earl. 
 
 "So very ill indeed, that Ibelieve," replied Colvin, "there 
 is no sort of treachery which the heart can devise, or the arm 
 ■perpetrate, that hath not ready reception in his breast, and 
 prompt execution at his hand. It is painful, my lord, for an 
 honest Englishman like me to serve in an army where such 
 traitors have command. But what can I do, unless I could once 
 more find me a soldier's occupation in my native country ? 
 I often hope it will please merciful Heaven again to awaken 
 those brave civil wars in my own dear England, where all was 
 fair fighting, and treason was unheard of." 
 
 Lord Oxford gave his host to understand that there -was a 
 possibility that his pious wish of living and dying in his own 
 country, and in the practice of his profession, was not to be 
 despaired of. Meantime he requested of him, that early on the 
 next morning he would procure him a pass and an escort for 
 his son, whom he was compelled to despatch forthwith to Nancy, 
 the residence of King Rene. 
 
 " What ! " said Colvin, is my young Lord of Oxford to take 
 a degree in the Court of Love ? foi' no other business is listened 
 to at King Rend's capital, save love and poetry." 
 
3o6 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " I am not ambitious of such distinction for him, my good 
 host," answered Oxford ; " but Queen Margaret is with her 
 father, and it is but fitting that the youth should kiss her 
 hand." 
 
 /'Enough spoken," said the veteran Lancastrian. " I trust, 
 though winter is fast approaching, the Red Rose may bloom 
 in spring." 
 
 He then ushered the Earl of Oxford to the partition of the 
 tent which he was to occupy, in which there was a couch for 
 Arthur also — their host, as Colvin might be termed, assuring 
 them that, with peep of day, horses and faithful attendants 
 should be ready to speed the youth on his journey to Nancy. 
 
 " And now, Arthur," said his father, " we must part once 
 more. I dare, give thee, in this land of danger, no written 
 communication to my mistress, Queen Margaret ; but say to 
 her, that I have found the Duke of Burgundy wedded to his 
 own views of interest, but not averse to combine them with 
 hers. Say, that I have little doubt that he will grant us the re- 
 quired aid, but not without the expected resignation in his 
 favor by herself and King Ren^. Say, I would never have rec- 
 ommended such a ;sacrifice for the precarious chance of over- 
 throwing the House of York, but that I am satisfied that France 
 and Burgundy are hanging like vultures over Provence, and 
 that the one or other, or both princes, are ready, on her father's 
 demise, to pounce on such possessions as they have reluctantly 
 spared to him during his life. An accommodation with Burgundy 
 may therefore, on the one hand, ensure his active co-opera- 
 tion in the attempt on England ; and, on the other, if our high- 
 spirited princess complies not with the Duke's request, the jus- 
 tice of her cause will give no additional security to her hereditary 
 claims on her father's dominion. Bid Queen Margaret, therefore, 
 unless she should have changed her views, obtain King Rent's 
 formal deed of cession, conveying his estates to the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy, with her Majesty's consent. The necessary provisions to 
 the King and to herself may be filled up at her Grace's pleasure, 
 or they may be left blank. I can trust to the Duke's generosity 
 to their being suitably arranged. All that I fear is, tha,t 
 Charles may embroil himself " 
 
 " In some silly exploit, necessary for his own honor and the 
 safety of his dominions," answered a voice behind the lining of 
 the tent ; , " and, by doing so, attend to his own affairs more 
 than to ours ? Ha, Sir Earl ! " 
 
 At the same time the curtain was drawn aside, and a person 
 entered, in .whom, though clothed with the jerkin and bonnet 
 of a private soldier of the Walloon guard, Oxford instantly 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 307 
 
 recognized the Duke of Burgundy's harsh features and fierce 
 eyes as they sparkled from under the fur and feather with which 
 the cap was ornamented. 
 
 Arthur, who knew not the Prince's person, started at the 
 intrusion, and laid his hand on his dagger ; but his father made 
 a signal which stayed his hand, and he gazed with wonder on 
 the solemn respect with which the Earl received the intrusive 
 soldier. The first word informed him of the cause. 
 
 " If this masking be done in proof of my faith, noble Duke, 
 permit me to say it is superfluous." 
 
 " Nay, Oxford," answered the Duke, " I was a courteous 
 spy ; for I ceased to play the eavesdropper at the very moment 
 when I ha.d reason to expect you were about to say something 
 to anger me." 
 
 " As I am a true Knight, my Lord Duke, if you had re- 
 mained behind the arras, you would only have heard the same 
 truths which I am ready to tell in your Grace's presence, 
 though it may have chanced they might have been more bluntly 
 expressed." 
 
 " Well, speak them then, in whatever phrase thou wilt — 
 they lie in their throats that say Charles of Burgundy was ever 
 offended by advice from a well-meaning friend." 
 
 " I would, then, have said,',' replied the English Earl, "that 
 all which Margaret of Anjou had to apprehend was, that the 
 Duke of Burgundy, when buckling on his armor to win Pro- 
 vence for himself, and to afford to her his powerful assistance 
 to assert her rights in England, was likely to be withdrawn from 
 such high objects by an imprudently eager desire to avenge 
 himself, of imaginary affronts, offered to him, as he supposed, 
 by certain confederacies of Alpine mountaineers, .over whom it 
 is impossible to gain any important advantage, or acquire rep- 
 utation, while on the contrary, there is a risk of losing both. 
 These men dwell amongst rocks and deserts which are almost 
 inaccessible, and subsist in a manner so rude, that the poorest 
 of your subjects would starve if subjected to such diet._ They 
 are formed by nature to be the garrison of the mountain fort- 
 resses in which she has placed them ; — for Heaven's sake med- 
 dle not with them, but follow forth your own nobler and more 
 important objects, without stirring a nest of hornets, which, once 
 in motion, may sting you into madness." 
 
 The Duke had promised patience, and endeavored to keep 
 his word;, but the swollen muscles of his face, and his flashing 
 eyes, showed how painful to him it was to suppress his resent- 
 ment. 
 
 " You are misinformed, my lord," he said ; " these men are 
 
3o8 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 not the inoffensive herdsmen and peasants you are pleased to 
 suppose them. If they were, I might afford to despise them. 
 But, flushed witli some victories over the sluggish Austrians, 
 they have shaken off all reverence for authority, assume airs of 
 independence, form leagues, make inroads, storm towns, doom 
 and execute men of noble birth at their pleasure. — Thou art_ 
 dull, and look'st as if thou dost not apprehend me. To rouse 
 thy English blood, and make thee sympathize with. my feelings 
 to these mountaineers, know that these Swiss are very Scots to 
 my dominions in their neighborhood — poor, proud, ferocious ; 
 easily offended, because they gain by war ; ill to be appeased, 
 because they nourish deep revenge ; ever ready to seize the 
 moment of advantage, and attack a neighbor when he is 
 engaged in other affairs. The same unquiet, perfidious, and 
 inveterate enemies that the Scots are to England, are the Swiss 
 to Burgundy and to my allies. What say you ? Can I under- 
 take anything of consequence till I have crushed the pride of 
 such a people ? It will be but a few days' work. I will grasp 
 the mountain-hedgehog, prickles and all, with my steel gaunt- 
 let." 
 
 " Your Grace will then have shorter work with them,'' re- 
 plied the disguised nobleman, " than our English Kings have 
 had with Scotland. The wars there have lasted so long, and 
 proved so bloody, that wise men regret we ever began Ihem." 
 
 "Nay," said the Duke, "I will not dishonor the Scots by 
 comparing them in all respects to these mountain churls of the 
 Cantons. The Scots have blood and gentry among them, and 
 we have seen many examples of both ; these Swiss are a mere 
 brood of peasants, and the few gentlemen of birth they can 
 'loast must hide their distinction in the dress and manners of 
 ; lowns. They will, I think, scarce stand against a charge of 
 Hainaulters." , 
 
 " Not if the Hainaulters find ground to ride upon. But" 
 
 " Nay, to silence your scruples," said the Duke, inlerrupt- 
 -ng him, " know, that these people encourage, by their coun- 
 tenance and aid, the formation of the moSt dangerous conspira- 
 jies in my dominions. Look here — I told you that my officer. 
 Sir Archibald de Hagenbach, was murdered when the town of 
 3reisach was treacherously taken by these harmless Switzers of 
 vours. And here is a scroll of parchment, which announces 
 }hat my servant was murdered by doom of the Vehme-gericht, 
 •\ band qf secret assassins, whom I will not permit to meet in 
 iny part of my dominions. Oh, could I but catch them above 
 ground as they are found lurking below, they should know 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 309 
 
 what the life of a nobleman is worth ! Then, look at the in- 
 solence of their attestation." 
 
 The scroll bore, with the day and date adjected, that judg- 
 ment had been done on Archibald de Hagenbach, for tyranny, 
 violence, and oppression, by order of the Holy Yehme, and 
 that it was executed by their officials, who were responsible for 
 the same to their tribunal alone. It was countersigned in red 
 ink, with the badges of the Secret Society, a coil of ropes and a 
 drawn dagger. 
 
 _ " Tliis document I found stuck to my toilet with a knife." 
 said the Duke ; another trick by which they give mystery to 
 their murderous jugglery." 
 
 The thought of what he had undergone in John Mengs's 
 house, and reflections upon the extent and omnipresence of 
 these Secret Associations, struck even the brave Englishman 
 with an involuntary shudder. 
 
 " For the sake of every saint in heaven," he said, " forbear, 
 my lord, to speak of these tremendous societies, whose creat- 
 ures are above, beneath, and around us. No man is secure of 
 his life, however guarded, if it be sought by a man who is care- 
 less of his own. You are surrounded by Germans, Italians, and 
 other strangers — How many amongst these may be bound by 
 the secret ties which withdraw men from every other social 
 borid, to unite them together in one inextricable, though secret 
 compact 'i Beware, noble Prince, of the situatioi) on which your 
 throne is placed, though it still exhibits al} the splendor of 
 power, and all the solidity, of foundation that belongs to so 
 august a structure. I — the friend of thy house — were it with 
 my dying breath — must needs tell thee, that the Swiss hang 
 lilce an avalanche over thy head ; and the. Secret Associations 
 work beneath thee like the first throes of the coming earthquake. 
 Provoke not the contest, and the snow will rest undisturbed on 
 the mountain-side; — the agitation pf the subterranean vapors 
 will be hushed to rest ; but a single word of defiance, or one 
 flash of indignant scorn, may call their terrors into instant 
 action." 
 
 " You speak," said the Duke, ^' with more awe of a pack of 
 naked churls, and a band of midnight assassins, than I have 
 seen you show for real danger. Yet I will not scorn your coun- 
 sel — I will hear the Swiss envoys patiently, and I will not, if I 
 can help it, show the contempt with which I cannot but regard 
 their pretensions to treat as independent States. On the 
 Secret Associations I will be silent, till time gives me the means 
 of acting in combination with the Emperor, the Diet, and the 
 
3IO 
 
 Af/NE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Princes of the Empire, that they may be driven from all their 
 burrows at once. — Ha, Sir Earl, said I well? " 
 
 « It is well thought, my lord, but it may be unhappily 
 spoken. You are in a position, where one word, overheard by 
 a traitor might produce death and ruin." 
 
 " I keep no traitors about me," said Charles. " If I thought 
 there was such in my camp, I would rather die by them at 
 once, than live in perpetual terror and suspicion." 
 
 " Your Highness's ancient followers and servants," said the 
 Earl, " speak unfavorably of the Count of Campo-Basso, who 
 holds so high a rank in youf confidence.'' 
 
 " Ay," replied the Duke, with composure, " it is easy to 
 decry the most faithful servant in a court by the imanimous 
 hatred of all the others. I warrant me your bull-headed country- 
 man, Colvin, has been railing against the Count like the rest of 
 them, for Campo-Basso sees nothing amiss in any department, 
 but he reports it to me without fear or favor. And then his 
 opinions are cast so much in the same mould with ray own, 
 that I can hardly get him to enlarge upon what he best under- 
 stands, if it seems in any respect different from my sentiments. 
 Add to this, a noble person, grace, gayety, skill in the exercises 
 of war, and in the courtly arts of peace — such is Campo-Basso ; 
 and being such, is he not a gem for a prince's cabinet ? " 
 
 " The very materials out of which a favorite is formed,*' 
 answered the Earl of Oxford, " but Something less adapted for 
 making a faithful counselor." 
 
 " Why, thou mistrustful fool," said the Duke, " must I tell 
 thee the very inmost secret respecting this man, Campo-Basso, 
 and will nothing short of it stay these imaginary suspicions 
 which thy-new trade of an itinerant merchant hath led thee to 
 entertain so rashly ? " 
 
 " If your Highness honors me with your confidenee," said 
 the Earl of Oxford, " I can only say that my fidelity shall de- 
 serve it." 
 
 " Know, then, thou misbelieving mortal, that my good friend 
 and brother, Louis of France, sent me priyate information, 
 through no less a person than his famious barber, Oliver le 
 Diable, that Campo-Basso had for a certain sum offered to put 
 my lierson into his hancjs, alive or dead. — You start ! " 
 
 '' I do indeed — recollecting your Highness's practice of rid- 
 ing out lightly armed, and with a very small attendance, to re- 
 connoitre the ground, and visit the outposts, and therefore how 
 easily such a treacherous device might be carried into execu- 
 tion." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " answered the Duke. — " Thou seest the danger 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 3" 
 
 as if it were real, whereas nothing can be more certain than 
 that, if my cousin of France had ever received such an offer, he 
 would have been the last person to have put me on my guard 
 against the a1;tempt. No — he knows the value I set on Campo- 
 Basso's services, and forged the accusation to deprive me of 
 them." 
 
 "And yet, my lord,'' replied the English Earl, "your High- 
 ness, by my counsel, will not unnecessarily or impatiently fling 
 aside your armor of proof, or ride without the escort of some 
 score of your trusty Walloons." 
 
 " Tush, man. thou wouldst make a carbonado of a fever- 
 stirred wretch like myself, betwixt the bright iron and the burn- 
 ing sun. But I will be cautious though I jest thus— ^and you, 
 young man, may assure my cousin, Margaret of Anjou, that I 
 will consider her affairs as my own. And remember, youth, 
 that the secrets of princes are fatal gifts, if he to whom they are 
 imparted blaze them abroad ; but if duly treasured up, they en- 
 rich the bearer. And thou shalt have cause to say so, if thou 
 canst bring back with thee from Aix the deed of resignation of 
 which thy father hath spoken. — Good-night — rgood-night ! " 
 
 He left the apartment. 
 
 " You have just seen," said the Earl of Oxford to his son, 
 " a sketch of this extraordinary prince, by his own pencil. It 
 is easy to excite his ambition or thirst of power, but well-nigh 
 impossible to limit him to the just measures by which it is most 
 likely to be gratified. He is ever like the young archer, startled 
 from his mark by some swallow crossing his eye, even careless 
 as he draws the string. Now irregularly and offensively suspi- 
 cious — now unreservedly lavish of his confidence-^not long since 
 the enemy of the line of Lancaster, and the ally of her. deadly 
 foe^now its last and only stay and hope. God mend all ! — it 
 is a weary thing to look on the game and see how it might be 
 won, while we are debarred by the caprice of others from the 
 power of playing it according to our own skill. How much 
 must depend on the decision, of Duke Charles upon the morrow, 
 and how little do I possess the power of influencing him, either 
 for his own safety or our advantage ! Good-night, my son, and 
 let us trust events to Him who alone can control them." 
 
312 ANNE Ofi GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENTH. 
 
 My blood hath been too cold and temperate, 
 Unapt to stir at these indignities, 
 And you have found me; for accordingly, 
 You tread upon my patience. 
 
 Henry IV. 
 
 THE^dawn of morning roused the banished Earl of Oxford 
 and his son, and its lights were scarce abroad on the eastern 
 heaven ere their host, Colvin, entered with an attendant, bear- 
 ing some bundles, which he placed on the floor of the tent, and 
 instantly retired. The officer of the Duke's ordnance then an- 
 nounced that he came with a message from the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy. , 
 
 " His Highness," he said, " has sent four stout yeomen, 
 with a commission of credence to my young master of Oxford, 
 and an ample puirse of gold, to furnish his expenses to Aix, and 
 while his affairs may detain him there. Also a letter of cre- 
 dence to King Rend, to ensure his reception, and two suits of 
 honor for his use, as for an English gentleman desirous to 
 witness the festive solemnities of Provence, and in whose safety 
 the Duke deigns to take deep interest. His further affairs 
 there, if he hath any, his Highness recommends to him to 
 manage with prudence and secrecy. His Highness hath also 
 sent a couple of horses for his use, — one an ambling jennet for 
 the road, and another a strong barbed horse of Flanders, in 
 case he hath aught to do. It will be fitting that my young 
 master change his dress, and assume attire more near his proper 
 rank. His attendants ktiow the road, and have power, in case 
 of need, to summon, in the Duke's name, assistance from all 
 faithful Burgundians. I have but to add, the sooner the yciUng 
 gentleman sets forward, it will be the better sign of a successfiil 
 journey." 
 
 " I am ready to mount the instant that I have changed my 
 dress," said Arthur. 
 
 " And I," said his father, " have no wish to detain him on 
 the service in which he is now employed. Neither he nor I 
 will say more than God be with you. How and where we are 
 to meet again, who can tell ? " 
 
 " I believe," said Colvin, " that must rest on the motions of 
 the Duke, which, perchance, are not yet determined upon ; but 
 his Highness depends upon your remaining with him, my noble 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 313 
 
 lord, till the affairs of which you come to treat may be more 
 fully decided. Something I have for your lordship's private 
 ear, when your son hath parted on his journey." 
 
 While Colvin was thus talking with his father, Arthur, who 
 was not above half dressed when he entered the tent, had 
 availed himself of an obscure corner, in which he exchanged the 
 plain garb belonging to his supposed condition as a merchant,' 
 for such a riding suit as became a young man of some quality 
 attached to the Court of Burgundy. It was not without a 
 natural sensation of pleasure that the youth resumed an apparel 
 suitable to his birth, and which no one was personally more 
 fitted to become ; but it was with much deeper feeling that he 
 hastily, and as secretly is possible, flung round his neck, and 
 concealed under the collar and folds of his ornamented doublet, 
 a small thin chain of gold, curiously linked in what was called 
 Morisco work. This was the contents of the parcel which Anne 
 of Geierstein had indulged his feelings, and perhaps her own, 
 by putting into his hands as they parted. The chain was 
 secured by a slight plate of gold, on whicji a bodkin, or a point 
 of a knife, had traced on the one side, in distinct though light 
 characters. Adieu for ever ! while, on the reverse, there 
 was rhuch more obscurely traced the word Remember ! — 
 A. VON G. 
 
 All who may read this are, have been, or will be, lovers ; 
 and there is none, therefore, who may not be able to compre- 
 hend why this token was carefully suspended around Arthur's 
 neck, so that the inscription might rest on the region • of his 
 heart, without the interruption of any substance which could 
 prevent the pledge from being agitated by every throb of that 
 busy organ. 
 
 This being hastily ensured, a few minutes completed the rest 
 of his toilet ; and he kneeled before his father to ask his bless- 
 ing, and his further commands for Aix. 
 
 His father blessed him almost inarticulately, and then said, 
 with recovered firmness, that he was already possessed of all 
 the knowledge necessary for success on his mission. 
 
 " When you can bring me the deeds wanted," he whispered 
 with more firmness, " you will find me near the person of the 
 Duke of Burgundy." 
 
 They wqnt forth of the tent in silence, and found before it 
 the four Burgundian yeomen, tall and active-looking men, ready 
 mounted themselves, and holding two saddled horses — the one 
 accoutred for war, the other a spirited jennet, for the purposes 
 of the journey. One of them led a sumpter-horse, on which 
 Colvin- informed Arthur he would find the change of habil; 
 
314 
 
 ANNE OF GErERSTEIN. 
 
 necessary when he should arrive at Aix ; and at the same time 
 delivered to him a heavy purse of gold. 
 
 " Thiebault," he continued, pointing out the eldest of the 
 attendant troopers, " may be trusted— I will be warrant for his 
 sagacity and fidelity. The other three are picked men, who will 
 not fear their skin-cutting." 
 
 Arthur vaulted into the saddle whh a sensation of pleasure,' 
 which was natural to a young cavalier who had not for many 
 months felt a spirited horse beneath him. The lively jennet 
 reared with impatience. Arthur, sitting firm on his seat, as 
 if he had been a part of the animal, only said, " Ere we are 
 long acquainted, thy spirit, my fair roan, will be something 
 more tamed." 
 
 " One word more, my son," said his father, and whispered 
 in Arthur's ear, as he stooped from the saddle ; " If you receive 
 a letter from me, do not think yourself fully acquainted with 
 the contents till the paper has been held opposite to a hot 
 fire." 
 
 Arthur bowed, and motioned to the elder trooper to lead the 
 •way, when all, giving rein to their horses, rode off through the 
 encampment at a round pace, the young leader signing an adieu 
 to his father and Colvin. 
 
 The Earl stood like a man in a dream, following his son 
 with his eyes, in a kind of reverie, which was only broken when 
 Colvin said, "I mar\'el not, my lord, that you are anxious 
 about my young master ; he is a gallant youth, well worth a 
 father's caring for, and the timfes we live in are both false and 
 bloody." 
 
 " God and St. Mary be my witness," said the Earl, '•' that 
 if I grieve, it is not for my own house only ; — if I am anxious, 
 it is not for the sake of my own son alone ; — but it is hard to 
 risk a last stake in a cause so perilous. — iWhat commands 
 brought you from the Duke ? " 
 
 " His Grace," said Colvin, " will get on horseback after he 
 has breakfasted. He sends you some garments, which, if not 
 fitting your quality, are yet nearer lo suitable apparel than 
 those you now wear, and he desires that, observing your incog- 
 nito as an English merchant of eminence, you will join him in 
 his cavalcade to Dijon, where he is to receive the answer of the 
 Estates of Burgundy concerning matters submitted to their con- 
 sideration, and thereafter give public audience to the Deputies 
 from Switzerland. His Highness has charged me with the care 
 of finding you suitable accommodation during the ceremonies 
 of the day, which, he thinks, 'you will, as a stranger, be pleased 
 ' to look upon. But he prohably told you all this himself, for I 
 
ANNE OF GEIERST^IN. 315 
 
 think you saw him last night in disguise — Nay,' look as strange 
 ^s you will — the Duke plays that trick too often to be able to 
 do it with secrecy ; the very horse-boys know him while he tra- 
 verses the tents of the common soldiery, and sutler women give 
 him the name of the spied spy. If it were only honest Harry 
 Colvin who knew this, it . should not cross his lips. But it is 
 practiced too openly, and too widely known. Come, noble 
 lord, though' I must teach my tongue to forego that courtesy, 
 will you along to breakfast ? " 
 
 The meal, according to the practice of the time, was a solemn 
 and solid one ; and a favored officer of the great duke of Bur- 
 gundy lacked no means, it may be believed, of rendering due 
 hospitality to k guest having claims of such high respect. ' But 
 ere the breakfast was over a clamorous flourish of trumpets 
 announced that the Duke, with his attendants and retinue, was 
 sounding to horse. Philipson, as he was still called, was, in 
 the name of the Duke, presented with a stately charger, and 
 with his host mingled in the splendid assembly which began to 
 gather in front of the Duke's pavilion. In a few minutes the 
 Prince himself issued forth, in the superb dress of the Order 
 of the Golden Fleece, of which his father Philip had been the 
 founder, and Charles was himself the patron and sovereign. 
 Several of his courtiers were dressed in the same magnificent 
 robes, and with their followers and attendants displayed so 
 much wealth and splendor of appearance as to warrant the 
 common saying, that the Duke of Burgundy maintained the 
 most magnificent court in Christendom. The officers of his 
 household attended in their order, together with heralds and 
 pursuivants, the grotesque richness of whose habits had a sin- 
 gular effect among those of the high clergy in their albes'-and 
 dalmatiques, and of the knights and crown vassals who were 
 arrayed in armor. Among these last, who were variously 
 equipped, according to the different character of their service, 
 rode Oxford, but in a peaceful habit, neither so plain as to be 
 out of place among such splendor, nor so rich as to draw on 
 him a special or particular degree of attention. He rode by 
 the side of Colvin, his tall muscular figure, and deep-marked 
 features, forming a strong contrast to the rough, almost ignoble 
 cast of countenance, and stout thick-set form, of the less dis- 
 tinguished soldier of fortune. ' 
 
 Ranged into a solemn procession, the rear of which was 
 closed by a guard of two hundred picked arquebusiers, a de- 
 scription of soldiers who were just then coming into notice, and 
 as many mounted men-a;t-arms, the Duke and his retinue, leav- 
 ing the barriers of the camp, directed their march to the town, 
 
3i6 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 or rather city, of Dijon, in those days the capita^ of all Bur- 
 gundy. 
 
 It was a town well secured with walls and ditches, which 
 last were filled by means of a small river, named the Ougche, 
 which combines its waters for that purpose with a torrent called 
 Suzon. Four gates, with appropriate barbicans, outworks, and 
 drawbridges, corresponded nearly to the cardinal points of ths 
 compass, and gave admission to the city. The number of towers, 
 which stood high abovfe its walls, and defended them at different 
 'angles, was thirty-three ; and the walls themselves, which exceed- 
 ed- in most places the height of thirty feet, were built of stones 
 hewn and squared, and were of great thickness. This stately city 
 was surrounded on the outside with hills covered with vineyards, 
 while from within its walls rose the towers of many noble builds 
 ings, both public and private, as well as the steeples of magnifi- 
 cent churches, and of well-endowed convents, attesting the 
 wealth and devotion of the House of Burgundy. 
 
 When the trumpets of the Duke's procession had summoned 
 the burgher guard at the gate of St. Nicliolas, the drawbridge 
 fell, the portcullis rose, the people shouted joyously, the windows 
 were hung with tapestry, and as, in the Inidgt of his retinue, 
 Charles himself came riding on a milk-white steed, attended 
 only by six pages under fourteen years old, with each a gilded 
 partisan in his hand, the acclamations with which he was re- 
 ceived on all sides showed that, if some instances of misrule had 
 diminished his popularity, enough of it remained to render his 
 reception into his capital decorous at least, if not enthusiastic. 
 It is probable that the veneration attached to his father's 
 memory counteracted for a long time the unfavorable effect 
 which some of his own actions were calculated to produce on 
 the public mind. 
 
 The procession halted before a large Gothic building in the 
 centre of Dijon. This was then called Maison du Due, as, after 
 the union of Burgundy with France, it was termed Maison du 
 Roy. The Maire of Dijon attended on the steps before this 
 palace, accompanied by his official brethren, and escorted by a 
 hundred able-bodied citizens, in black velvet cloaks, bearing 
 half-pikes in their handSi The Maire kneeled to kiss the stir- 
 rup of the Duke, and at the moment when Charles descended 
 from his horse, every bell in the city commenced so thundering 
 a peal, that they might almost have awakened the dead who 
 slept in the vicinity of the steeples, which rocked with their 
 clangor. Under the influence of this stunning peal of welcome 
 the Duke entered the great hall of the building, at the upper 
 end of which were erected a throne for the sovereign, seats 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 317 
 
 for his more distinguished officers of state and higher vassals, 
 with benches behind for persons of less note. On one of 
 these, but in a spot from which he might possess a commanding 
 view of the whol^ asseiubly, as well as of the Duke himself, 
 Colvin placed the noble Englishman ; and Charles, whose 
 .quick stern eye glanced rapidly over the party when they were 
 seated, seemed, by a nod so slight as to be almost impercept- 
 ible to those around him, to give his approbation of the ar- 
 rangement adopted. 
 
 When the Duke and his assistants were seated and in order, 
 the Maire, again approaching, in the most humble manner, 
 and kneeling .on the lowest step of the ducal throne, requested 
 to know if his Highness's leisure permitted him to hear the 
 inhabitants of his capital express their devoted zeal to his 
 person, and to accept the benevolence which, in the shape of a 
 silver cup filled with gold pieces, he had the distinguished 
 honor to place before his feet, in name ' of the citizens and 
 community of Dijon. 
 
 Cliarles, who at no time affected much courtesy, answered, 
 briefly and bluntly, with a voice which was naturally harsh and 
 dissonant, " All things in their, order, good Master Maire. Let 
 us first hear what the Estates of Burgundy have to say to us ; 
 we will then listen to the burghers of Dijon." 
 
 The Maire rose and retired, bearing in his hand the silver 
 cup, and experiencing probably some vexation, as well as sur- 
 prise, that its contents had not secured an instant and gracious 
 acceptance. 
 
 "I expected," said Duke Charles, "to have met at this 
 hour and place our Estates of the duchy of Burgundy, or a 
 deputation of them, with an answer to our message' conveyed 
 to them three days since by our chancellor. Is there no one 
 here on their part ? " 
 
 The Maire, as none else made any attempt to answer, 'said 
 that the members of the Estates had been in close deliberation 
 the whole of that morning, and doubtless would instantly v.ait 
 upon his Highness, when they heard that he had honored the 
 town with his presence. 
 
 " Go, Toison d'Or," said the Duke to the herald of the Order 
 of the Golden Pleece,* "bear to these gentlemen the tidings 
 that we desire to knovy the end of their deliberations ; and that 
 neither in courtesy nor in loyalty can they expect us to wait 
 long. Be round with them. Sir Herald, or we shall be as round 
 with you." ' ' 
 
 * The chief order of knighthood in the State of Burgundy. 
 
3i8 AA'NE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 While the herald was absent on his mission, we may remind 
 our readers, that in all feudalized countries (that is to say, in 
 almost all Europe during the middle ages), an ardent spirit of 
 liberty pervaded the constitution ; and the only fault that could 
 be found was, that the privileges and freedom for which the 
 great vassals contended did not sufficiently descend to the lower 
 orders of society, or extend protection to those who were most' 
 likely to need it. The two first ranks in the State, the nobles 
 and clergy, enjoyed high and important privileges; and even the 
 third estate, or citizens, had this immunity in peculiar, that no 
 new duties, customs, or taxes of any kind, could be exacted 
 from them save by their own consent. 
 
 The imemory of Duke Philip, the father of Charles, was dear 
 to the Burgundians ; for during twenty years that sage prince 
 had maintained his rank amongst the sovereigns of Europe with 
 much dignity, and had accumulated treasure without exacting 
 or receiving any great increase of supplies from the rich countries 
 which he governed. But the extravagant schemes and immode- 
 rate expense of Duke Charles had already excited the suspicion 
 of his Estates ; and the mutual good-will betwixt the iDrince and 
 people began to be exchanged for suspicion and distrust on the 
 one side, and defiance on the other. The refractory disposition 
 of the Estates had of late increased ; for they had disapproved 
 of various wars in which their Duke had needlessly embarked ; 
 and from his levying such large bodies of mercenary troops, 
 they came to suspect he might finally employ the wealth voted 
 to him by his subjects, for the undue extension of his roval pre- 
 rogative, and the destruction of the, liberties of the people. 
 
 . At the same time the Duke's uniform success in enterprises 
 which appeared desperate as well as difficult, esteem for the 
 frankness and openness of his character, and dread of the 
 obstinacy and headstrong tendency of a temper which could 
 seldom bear persuasion, and never endured opposition, still 
 threw awe and terror around the throne, which was materially 
 aided by the attachment of the common people to the person of 
 the present Duke, and to the memory of his father. It had 
 been understood, that upon the present occasion there was 
 strong opposition amongst the Estates to the system of taxation 
 proposed on the part of the Duke, and the issue was expected 
 with considerable anxiety by the Duke's counselors, and with 
 fretful impatience by the sovereign himself. 
 
 After a space of about ten minutes had elapsed, the Chan- 
 cellor of Burgundy, who was Archbishop of Vienna, and a 
 prelate of high rank, entered the hall with his train ; and passing 
 behind the ducal throne to occupy one of the most distinguished 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 319 
 
 places in the assembly, he stopped for a moment to urge his. 
 master to receive the answer of his Estates in a private manner, 
 giving him at the same time to understand that the result of the 
 deliberations had been by no means satisfactory. 
 
 " By ' Saint George of Burgundy, my Lord Archbishop," 
 answered the Duke, sternly and loud, " we are not a prince of a 
 mind so paltry that we need to shun the moody looks of a dis- 
 contented and insolent faction. If the Estates of Burgundy 
 send a disobedient and disloyal answer to our paternal message, 
 let them deliver it in open court, that' the assembled people 
 may learn how to decide between their Duke and those petty 
 yet intriguing spirits, who would interfere with our authority." 
 
 The Chancellor bowed gravely, and took his seat ; while the 
 English Earl observed that most of the members of the assem- 
 bly, excepting such as in doing so could not escape the Duke's 
 notice, passed some observations to their neighbors, which were 
 received with a half-expressed nod, shrug, or shake of the head, 
 as men treat a proposal upon which it is dangerous to decide. 
 At the same time, Toison d'Or, who acted as master of the 
 ceremonies, introduced into the hall a committee of the Estates, 
 consisting of twelve members, four from each branch of the 
 Estates, announced as empowered to deliver the answer of that 
 assembly to the Duke of Burgundy. 
 
 When the deputation entered the hall, Charles arose from 
 his throne according to ancient custom, and taking frorti his 
 head his bonnet, charged with a huge plume of feathers. " Health 
 and welcome," he said, " to my good subjects of the Estates of 
 Burgundy ! " All the numerous train of courtiers rose and un- 
 covered their heads with the same ceremony. The members 
 of the states then dropped on one knee, the four ecclesiastics, 
 among whom Oxford recognized the Black Priest of St. Paul's, 
 a:pproaching nearest to the Duke's. person, the nobles kneeling' 
 behitid them, and the burgesses in the rear of the whole. ' 
 
 " Noble Duke," said the Priest of St. Paul's. " will it best 
 please you to hear the answer of your good and loyal Estates 
 of Burgundy by the voice of one membfer speaking for the whole, 
 or by three persons, each delivering the sense of the body to 
 which he belongs i"' " 
 
 " As you will," said the Duke of Burgundy. 
 
 " A Priest, a noble, and a free burgher," said the churchman, 
 still on one knee, " will address your Highness in succession. 
 For though, blessed be the God who leads brethren to dwell 
 together in unity ! we are agreed in the general answer, yet 
 each body of the Estates may have special and separate reasons 
 to allege for the common opinion." 
 
32 o 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 '" We will hear you separately," said Duke Charles, castinng 
 his hat upon his head, and throwing himself carelessly back 
 into his seat. At the same time, all, who were of noble blood, 
 whether in the committee or amongst the spectators, vouched 
 their right to be peers of their sovereign by assuming their 
 bonnets ; and a cloud of waving plumes at once added grace 
 and dignity to the assembly. 
 
 When the Duke resumed his seat, the deputation arose from 
 their knees, and the Black Priest of St. Paul's, again stepping, 
 forth, addressed him in these words : — 
 
 " My Lord Duke, your royal and faithful clergy have con- 
 sidered your Highness's proposal to lay a talliage on your 
 people, in order to make war on the Confederate Cantons in 
 the country of the Alps. The quarrel, my liege lord, seems to 
 your clergy an unjust and oppressive one on your Higt(ness's 
 part ; nor can they hope that God will bless those who arm 
 in it. They ar^ therefore compelled to reject your Highness's 
 proposal." 
 
 The Duke's eye lowered gloomily on the deliverer of this 
 unpalatable message. < He shook, his head with one of those 
 stern and menacing looks which the harsh composition of his 
 features rendered; them peculiarly qualified to express. " You 
 have spoken. Sir Priest," was the only reply which he deigned 
 to make. 
 
 One of the four nobles, the Sire de Myrebeau, then expressed' 
 himself thus ; — 
 
 " Your Highness has asked of your faithful nobles to consent 
 to new imposts and exactions, to be levied through Burgundy, 
 for the raising of additional bands of hired soldiers for the 
 maintenance of the quarrels of the state. My lord, the swords 
 of the Burgundian nobles, knights, and gentlemen, have been 
 ever at your Highness's command, as those of our ancestors 
 have been readily wielded for your predecessors. In your 
 Highness's just quarrel we will go further, and fight firmer, 
 than any hired fellows who can be procured, whether from 
 France, or Germany, or Italy. We will not give our consent 
 that the people should, be taxed for paying mercenaries to 
 discharge that military duty which it is alike our pride and 
 our exclusive privilege to render." 
 
 " You =havp spoken, Sire de Myrebeau," were again the only 
 words of the Duke's reply. He uttered them slowly and with 
 deliberation, as if afraid lest some phrase pf imprudent violence 
 should escape along with what he purposed to say. Oxford 
 thought he cast a glance toward him before h'e spoke, as if the 
 consciousness of his presence was some additional restraint on 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 32 1 
 
 his passion. " Now, Heaveti grant," he said to himself, " that 
 this opposition may work its proper effect, and induce the Dulce 
 to renounce an imprudent attempt, so hazardous and so unneces- 
 sary ! " 
 
 While he muttered these thoughts, the Duke make a sign to 
 one of the tiers ^tat, or commons, to speak in his turn. The person 
 who obeyed the signal was Martin Block, a Wealthy butcher and 
 grazier of Dijon. His words were these : — " Noble Prince, our 
 fathers were the dutiful subjects of your predecessors ; we are the ' 
 same to you ; our children will be alike the liegemen of your 
 successors. But touching -the request your chancellor has made 
 to us, it is such as our ancestors never complied with ; such as 
 we are determined %o refuse, and such as will never be conceded 
 by the Estates of Burgundy, to any prince whatsoever, even to 
 the end of time." 
 
 Charles had borne with impatient silence the speeches of the 
 two former orators, but this blunt and hardy reply of the third 
 Estate excited him beyond what his nature could endure. He 
 gave way to the impetuosity of his disposition, stamped on the 
 floor till the throne shook, and- the high vault rung over their 
 heads, and overwhelmed the bold biirgher with reproaches. 
 " Beast of burden," he said, " am I to be stunned with thy 
 braying, too ? The nobles may claim leave to speak, for they 
 can fight ; the clergy may use ' their tongues, foi- it is their 
 trade ; but thou, that hast never shed blood, save that of bul- 
 locks, less stupid than thou drt.thyself^must thou and thy herd 
 come hither, privileged, forsooth, to bellow at a prince's foot- 
 stool .■■ Know, brute as thou art, that steers are never intro- 
 duced into temples but to be sacrificed, or butchers and me- 
 chanics brought before their sovereign, save that they may have 
 the honor to supply the public wants from their own swelling 
 hoards ! " ' 
 
 A murmur of displeasure, which even the terror of the 
 Doke's wrath could not repress, ran through the audience at 
 these words ; and the .burgher of Dijon, a sturdy plebeian, 
 replied, with little reverence, — " Our purses, my Lord Duke, 
 are our own — we will not put the strings of them into your 
 Highness's hands, unless we are satisfied with the purposes to 
 which the rponey is to be applied ; and we know well how to 
 protect our persons and our goods against foreign ruffians and 
 plunderers." 
 
 Charles was on the point of ordering the deputy to be 
 arrested, when, having cast his eye toward the Earl of Oxford, 
 whose presence, in despite of himself, imposed a certain degree 
 
322 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 of restraint upon him, he exchanged that piece. of imprudence 
 for another. 
 
 "I see," he said, addressing the committee of Estates, "that 
 you are all leagued to disappoint my purposes, and doubtless 
 to deprive me of all the power of a sovereign, save that of 
 ■wearing a coronet, and being served on the knee like a second 
 Charles the Simple, while the Estates of my kingdom divide 
 the power among them. But you shall know that you have to 
 do with Charles of Burgundy, a prince, who, though he has 
 deigned to consult you, is fully able to fight battles' witliout 
 the aid of his nobles, since they refuge him the assistance of 
 their swords — to defray the expense without the help of his 
 sordid burghers — and, it may be, to find out a path to Heaven, 
 without the assistance of an ungrateful priesthood. I will show 
 all that are here present, how little my mind is affected, or my 
 purpose changed,r by your seditious reply to the message with 
 which I honored you. — Jiere, Toison d'Or, admit into our 
 presence these men from the confederated towns and cantons, 
 as they call themselves, of Switzerland." 
 
 Oxford, and all who really interested themselves in the 
 Duke's welfare, heard, with the utmost apprehension, his 
 resolution to give an audience to the Swiss Envoys, prepos- 
 sessed as he was against them, and in the moment when his 
 mood was chafed to the, uttermost by the refusal of the Estates 
 to grant him supplies. They were aware tliat obstacles, opposed 
 to the current of his passion, were like rocks in the bed of a 
 river, whose course they cannot interrupt, while they provoke it 
 to rage and foam.' All were sensible that the die was cast, but 
 none who were not endowed with more than mortal prescience, 
 could have imagined how deep was the pleidge which depended 
 upon it. Oxford, in particular, conceived that the execution of 
 his plan of a descent upon England was the principal point 
 compromised by the Duke in his jjash obstinacy ; but he sus- 
 pected not — he dreamed not of supposing — that the life of 
 Charles himself, and the independence of Burgundy as a sepa- 
 rate kindom, hung quivering in the same scales. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 323 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH. 
 
 Why, 'tis a boisterous and cruel style, 
 
 A style tor challengers. Why, she defies us, 
 
 Like Turk to Christian. 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 The dooi's of the hall were now opened to the Swiss Depu- 
 ties, who for the preceding hour had been kept in attendance on 
 the outside of the building, without: receiving the slightest of 
 those attentions which among civilized nations are universally 
 paid to the representatives of a foreign State. Indeed, their 
 very appearance, dressed in coarse gray frocks, like mountain 
 hunters or shepherds, in the midst of an assembly blazing with 
 divers-colored garments, gold and silver lace, embroidery, and 
 precious stones, served to confirm the idea that they could only 
 have come hither in the capacity of the most humble peti- 
 tioners. 
 
 Oxford, however, who watched closely the deportment of his 
 late fellow-travelers, failed not to observe that they retained 
 each in his own person the character of firmness and indiffer- 
 ence which formerly distinguished them. Rudolph Donner- 
 hugel preserved his bold and haughty look ; the Banneret 
 the military indifference which made him look with apparent 
 apathy on all around him ; the burgher of Soleure was as 
 formal and important as ever ; nor did any of the three show 
 themselves affected in the slightest degree by the splendor of 
 the scene around them, or embarrassed by the consideration of 
 their own comparative inferiority of appointments. But the 
 noble Landaraman, on whom Oxford chiefly bent his attention, 
 seemed overwhelmed with a sense of the precarious state in 
 which his country was placed ; fearing, from the rude and 
 unhonored manner in which they were received, that war was 
 unavoidable, while, at the same time, like a good patriot, he 
 mourned over the consequences of ruin to the freedom of his, 
 country by defeat, or injury to her simplicity and virtuous in- 
 difference' of wealth, by the introduction of foreign luxuries, 
 and the evils attending on conquest. 
 
 Well acquainted with the opinions of Arnold Biederman, 
 Oxford could easily explain his sadness, while his comrade 
 Bonstetten, less capable of comprehending his friend's feelings, 
 looked at him with the expression which may be seen in the 
 
324- 
 
 ANNE OF GE/ERSTEIN 
 
 countenance of a faithful dog, when the creature indicates 
 sympathy with his master's melancholy, though unable to 
 ascertain or appreciate its cause. A look of wonder now and 
 then glided around the splendid assembly on the part of all the ' 
 forlorn group, excepting Donnerhugel and the Landamman ; 
 for the indomitable pride of the one, and the stea.dy patriotism 
 of the other, could not for even an instant be diverted by ex- 
 ternal objects from their own deep and stern reflections. 
 
 After a silence of nearly five minutes, the Duke spoke, with 
 the haughty and harsh manner which he might imagine belonged 
 to his place, and which certainly expressed his character. 
 
 '' Men of Berne, of Schwj'tz, or of whatever hamlet and 
 wilderness you may represent, know that we had not honored 
 you, rebels as you are to the dominion of your lawful superiors, 
 with an audience in our own presence, but for the intercession 
 of a well-esteemed friend, who has sojourned among your 
 mountains, and whom you may know by the name of Philipson, 
 an Englishman, following the trade of a merchant, and charged 
 with certain valuable matters of trafEc to our court. To his 
 intercession we have so far given way, that instead of command- 
 ing you, according to your demerits, to the gibbet and the 
 wheel in the Place de Morimont, we have condescended to re- 
 ceive you into our own presence, sitting in our cour pUniere, to 
 hear from you such submission as you can offer for your out- 
 rageous storm of bur town of La Ferette, the slaughter of many 
 of our liege men, and the deliberate murder of the noble 
 knight, Archibald of .Hagenbach, executed in your presence, 
 and by your countenance and device. Speak — if you can say 
 aught in defence of your felony and treason, either to depre- 
 cate just punishment, or crave undeserved mercy." 
 
 The Landamman seemed about to answer; but Rudolph 
 Donnerhugel, with his characteristic boldness and hardihood, 
 took the task of reply on himself. He confronted the proud 
 Duke with an eye unSppalled, and a countenance as stern as 
 his own. 
 
 " We came not here," he said, " to compromise our own 
 honor, or the dignity of the free people whom we represent, 
 by pleading guilty in, their name, or our own, to crimes of 
 Which we are innocent. ' And when you term us rebels, you 
 must remember, that a long train of victories, whose history is 
 written' in the noblest blood of Austria, has restored to the con- 
 federacy of our communities the freedom, of which an unjust 
 tyranny in vain attempted to deprive us. While Austria was 
 a just and beneficent mistress, we served her with our lives ; — 
 ^hen she became oppressive and tyrannical, we assumed inde« 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 325 
 
 pendence. If she has aught yet to claim from us, the descend- 
 ants of Tell,, Faust, add Stauffacher, wilLbe as ready to assert 
 their liberties as their fathers were to gain them. Your Grace 
 ■ — if such be your title — has no concern with any dispute be- 
 twixt us and Austria. For your threats of gibbet and wheel, 
 we are here defenceless men, on whom you may work your 
 pleasure ; but we know how to die, and our countrymen, know 
 how to avenge us." 
 
 The fiery Duke would have replied by commanding the 
 instant arrest, and probably the immediate execution, of the 
 whole deputation. But his chancellor, availing himself of the 
 privilege of his ofBce, rose, and daffiing his cap with a deep 
 reverence to the Duke, requested leave to reply to the mis- 
 proud young man, whq had,, he said, so greatly mistaken the 
 purpose of his Highness's speech. 
 
 Charles, feeling perhaps at the moment too much irritated 
 to form a calm decision, threw himself back in his chair of 
 state, and with an impatient and angry nod gave his chancellor 
 permission to speak. 
 
 , " Young man," said that high officer, " you have mistaken 
 the meaning of the high and mighty sovereign in whose pres- 
 ence you stand. Whatever be the lawful rights of Austria 
 over the revolted villages which have flung off their allegiance 
 to their native superior, we have no call to enter on that ar- 
 gument. But that for which Burgundy demands your answer, 
 is, wherefore, coming here in the guise, and with the character, 
 of peaceful envoys, on affairs touching your own communities 
 and the rights of the Duke's subjects, you have raised war in our 
 peaceful dominions, stormed a fortre,ss, massacred its garrison, 
 and put to death a noble knight, its commander? — all of them 
 actions contrary to the. law of nations, and, highly deserving of 
 the punishment with, which you have been, justly threatened, 
 but with which I hope our gracious sovereign will dispense, if 
 you express some sufficient reason, for such outrageous inso- 
 lence, with an offer of due submission to his Highness's pleas- 
 ure, and satisfactory reparation for such a high injury." 
 
 " You are a priest, grave, sir ">. " answered Rudolph Donner- 
 hugel, addressing the Chancellor of Burgundy. " If there be a 
 soldier in this assembly, who will avouch your charge, I chak 
 lenge him to the combat, man to man. We did not storm the 
 garrison of La Ferette---we were admitted into the gates in a 
 peaceful nianner, and were there instantly surrounded by the 
 soldiers of the late Archibald de Hagenbach, with the obvious 
 purpose of assaulting and murdering us on our peaceful mis- 
 sion. I promise ycu there had been news of more men dying 
 
326 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 than us. But an uproar broke out among the inhabitants of 
 the town, assisted, I believe, by many neighbors, to whom the 
 insolence and oppression of Archibald de Hagenbach had 
 become odious, as to all who were within his reach. We ren- 
 dered them no assistance ; and, I trust, it was not expected 
 that we should interfere in the favor of men who had stood 
 prepared to do the worst against us. But not a pike or sword 
 belonging to us or our attendants was dipped in Burgundiah 
 blood. Archibald de Hagenbach perished, it is true, on a 
 scaffold, and I saw him die with pleasure, under a sentence 
 pronounced by a competent court, such as is recognized in 
 Westphalia, and its dependencies on this %\Ap. of the Rhine. I 
 am not obliged to vindicate their proceedings ; but I aver, that 
 the Duke has received full proof of his regular sentence ; and, 
 in fine, that it was. amply deserved by oppression, tyranny, and 
 foul abuse of his authority^ Twill uphold against all gainsayers, 
 with the body of a man.' There lies my glove." 
 
 And with an action suited to the language he used, the 
 stern Swiss flung his right-hand glove on the floor of the hall. 
 In the spirit of the age, with the love of distinction in arms 
 which it nourished, and perhaps with the deSire of gaining the 
 Duke's favor, there was a general motion among the young 
 Burgundians to accept the challenge,' and more than six or 
 eight gloves were hastily doffed by the yOung knights present, 
 those who were more remote flinging them over the heads of 
 the nearest, and each proclaiming his name and title as he 
 proffered the gage of combat. 
 
 "I set at all," said the daring young Swiss, gathering the 
 gauntlets as they fell clashing around him. " More, gentle- 
 men, more ! a glove for every finger ! come on, one at once — 
 fair lists, equal judges of the field, the combat on foot, arid the 
 weapons two-handed swords, and I will not budge for a score 
 of you." 
 
 1 " Hold, gentlemen ; on your allegiance, hold ! " said the 
 Duke, gratified at the same time, and somewhat appeased, by 
 the zeal which was displayed in his cause — moved by the strain 
 of reckless bravery evinced by the challenger, with a hardihood 
 akin to his own — perhaps also not unwilling to display, in the 
 view of his cour pMniere, more temperance than he had been at 
 first capable of. " Hold, I command you all. — Toisbn d'Or, 
 gather up these gauntlets, and return them each to its owner. 
 God at)d St. George forbid that we should hazard the life of 
 even the least of our noble Burgundian gentry against such a 
 churl as this Swiss pea"Sant, who never so much as mounted a 
 horse, and knows not a jot of knightly courtesy, or the grace of 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 327 
 
 chivalry. — Carry your vulgar brs^wls elsewhere, young man, and 
 know tiiat, qn the present, occasion, the Place Morimont were 
 your only fitting lists, and the hangman your meet antagonist. 
 And you, sirs, his companions — whose iDehavior in suffering 
 this swaggerer to take the lead amongst you, seems to show 
 that the la,ws of nature, as well as of society, are, inverted, and 
 that youth is preferred to age, and peasants , to gentry — you 
 white-bearded men, I say, is there none of you who can speak 
 your errand in such language as it becomes a sovereign prince 
 to listen to.?" 
 
 " God forbid else," said the Landamman, stepping forward 
 and silencing Rudolph Donnerhugel, who was commencing a.n 
 apswer of defiance — " God forbid," he, said, " noble Duke, that 
 we should not be able to speak so as to be understood before 
 your Highness, since, I trust, v;e shall speak the language- of 
 truth, peace, and Justice. Nay, should it inpline your Highness 
 to listen to us the more favorably for our humility, I am will- 
 ing to humble myself rather than you should shun to hear us. 
 For my own part, I can truly say, that though 1 have lived, 
 and by free choice have resolved to die, a husbandman and ^a 
 hunter on the Alps of the Unterwald,. I; may claim by birtl> the 
 hereditary right to speak; before Dukes and ICings, and the 
 Emperor himself, There is no one, my Lord Duke^ in this 
 proud assembly, who derives his descent from a nobler source 
 than Geierstein." 
 
 " We have heard of you," said the Duke. " Men call you 
 the peasant-count. Your birth is your shaiTi,e ; or perhaps your 
 mother's, if ,your father had happened to have a handsome 
 ploughman, the fitting father of one who has become a willing 
 serf." . 
 
 " No serf, ray lord," answered the Landamman, but a free 
 man, who will neither oppress others, nor be himself tyrannized 
 over. My father was a noble lord, my mqther a most virtuous 
 lady. But I will not be provoked, by taunt or scornful jest, to 
 refrain from stating with calmness what xaj country has given 
 me in charge to sav. The inhabitants of the bleak and inhos- 
 pitableregions of the Alps desire, mighty sir, to remam at peace 
 with all their neighbors, and to enjoy: the ggvernment they, 
 have chosen, as best fitted to their condition and habits, leaving 
 all other states and countries to their free-will' in the same re- 
 spects. Especially, they desire to rernain at peace, and in unity 
 with the princely House of Burgundy, whose dominions approach 
 their possessions on so many points. My lord they desire it, 
 they entrea.t it, they even consent, to pray for it. We have been' 
 termed stubborn, intractable, and in§Qlent contemners of autho- 
 
328 ' ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 rity, and headers of sedition and rebellion. In evidence of the 
 contrary, my Lord Duke, I, who never bent a knee but to 
 Heaven, feel no dishonor in kneeling before your Highness, as 
 before a sovereign prince in the cour pleniere of his dominions, 
 where he has a right to exact homage from his subjects out of 
 duty, and from strangers out of courtesy. No vain pride of 
 mine," said the noble old man, his eyes swelling with tears, as 
 he knelt on one knee, " shall prevent me from personal humilia- 
 tion, when peace — that blessed peace, so dear to God, so inap- 
 preciably valuable to man — is in danger of being bi-oken off." 
 
 The whole assembly, even the Duke himself, were affected 
 by the noble and stately manner in which the brave old man 
 made a genuflection, which was obviously dictated by neither 
 meanness nor timidity. " Arise, sir," said Charles " if we have 
 said aught which can wound your private feelings, we retract 
 it as publicly as the reproach was spoken, and sit prepared to 
 hear you as a fair-meaning envoy." 
 
 " For that, my noble lord, thanks ; and I shall hold it a 
 blessed day, if I can find words worthy of the cause I have to 
 plead. My lord, a schedule in your Highness's hands has stated 
 the sense of many injuries received at the hand of your High- 
 ness's officers, and those of Romont, Count of Savoy, your strict 
 ally and adviser, we have a right to suppose, under your High- 
 ness's countenance. For Count Romont — he has already felt 
 with whom he has to contend ; but we have as yet taken no 
 measures to avenge injuries, affronts, interruptions to our com- 
 merce, from those who have a!vailed themselves of your High- 
 ness's authority to intercept Our countrymen, spoil our goods, 
 impress their persons, and even in some instances, take their 
 lives. The affray at La Ferette — I can vouch for what I saw — 
 had no origin or abettance from us ; nevertheless, it is impossible 
 an independent natioii can suffer the repetition of such injuries, 
 and free and independent we are determined to remain, or to 
 die in defence of our rights. What then must follow, unless 
 your Highness listens to the terms which I am commissioned to 
 offer .' War, a war to exterminatiori ; for so long as one of our 
 Confederacy can wield a halberd, so long, if this fatal strife once 
 Commences, there will be war betwixt your powerful realms and 
 Our poor and barren states. And what can the noble Duke o 
 Burgundy gain by such a strife ? — is it wealth and plunder . 
 Alas,' my Lord, there is more gold arid silver on the very bridle- 
 bits of your Highness's household troops, than can be found in 
 the public treasures or private hordes of our whole Confederacy. 
 Is it fame and glory you aspire to ? There is little honor to 
 be won by a numerous army over a few scattered bands, by men 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 329 
 
 -clad in mail over half-armed husbandmen and shepherds — of 
 such conquest s,rnall were the glory. But if, as all Christian 
 men believe, and as it is the constant trust of my countrymen, 
 from memory of the times of our fathers, — if the Lord of Hosts 
 should cast the balance in behalf of the fewer numbers and- 
 worse-armed party, I leave it with, your Highness to judge,, 
 what would, in that event, be the diminution of worship and; 
 fame. Is it extent of vassalage and dominion your Highness' 
 desires, by warring with your mountain neighbors ? Know 
 that you may, if it be God's will, gain our barren and rugged 
 mountains ; but, like our ancestors of old, we will seek refugei' 
 in wilder and more distant solitudes, and when we have resisted 
 to the last, we will starve in the icy wastes of the Glaciers. 
 Ay, men, women, and children, we will be frozen into annihi- 
 lation together, ere one free Switzer will acknowledge a foreign 
 master." 
 
 The speech of the Landamman made an obvious inpression 
 on the assembly. The Duke observed it, and his hereditary 
 obstinacy was irritated by the general disposition which he saw 
 entertained in favor of the ambassador. This evil principle ' 
 overcame some impression which the address of the noble Bieder- 
 man had not failed to make upon him. He answered with a 
 lowering brow, interrupting the old man as he was about to 
 continue his speech — " You argue falsely. Sir Count, or Sir 
 Landamman, or by whatever name you call yourself, if you 
 think we war on you from any hope of spoil, or any desire of 
 glory. We kno^ as well as you can tell us, that there is neither 
 profit nor fame to be achieved by conquering you. But sov- 
 ereigns,. to whom Heaven has given the power, must root out a 
 band of robbers, though there is dishonor in measuring swords 
 with them ; and we hunt to death a herd of wolves, though their 
 flesh is carrion, and their skins are nought." 
 
 . The Landamman shook his gray head, and replied, without 
 testifying emotion, and even with something approaching to a 
 smile — " I am an older woodsman than you, my Lord Duke — 
 and, it may be, a more experienced one. The boldest, the 
 hardiest hunter, will not , safely drive the wolf to his den. I 
 have shown your Highness the poor chance of gain and the great 
 risk of loss, which even you, powerful as you are, must incur by 
 risking a war with determined and desperate men. Let mfe now 
 tell what we are willing to do to secure a sincere and lasting 
 peace with our powerful neighbor of Burgundy. Your .Grace 
 is in the act of engrossing Lorraine, and it seems probable, under 
 so vigorous and enterprising a Prince, your authority may be 
 exteiided to the shores of the Mediterranean— be our noble 
 
33° 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 friend and sincere ally, and our mountains, defended by war- 
 »iors familiar with victofy, will be your barriers against Gfermany' 
 and Italy. For your sake we will admit the Count of Savoy to 
 terms, and restore to him our conquests, on such conditions as 
 your Highness shall yourself judge reasonable. ' Of past subjects 
 of offence on the part of your lieutenants and governors upon the' 
 frontier, we will be silent, so we have assurance of no such ag- 
 gressions in future. Nay, more, and it is my last and proudest 
 offer, we will send three thousand of our youth to assist your 
 Highness in any war which you may engage in, whether against 
 Louis of France, or the Emperor of Germany. They are a dif- 
 ferent set of men — proudly and truly rtiay I state it — from the 
 scum of Germany and Italy, who form themselves into merce- 
 nary bands of soldiers. And if Heaven should decide your 
 Highness to accept our offer, there will be one corps in yoiir 
 army which will leave their carcasses on the field ere a man of 
 them break their plighted troth." 
 
 A swarthy, but tall and handsome' man, wearing a corselet 
 richly engraved with arabasque work,started from his seat with 
 the air of one provoked beyond the bounds of restraint. This 
 was the Count de Campo-Basso, commander of Charles's Italian 
 mercenaries, who possessed, as has been alluded to, much influ- 
 ence over the Duke's mind, chiefly obtained by accommodating 
 himself to his master's opinions and prejudices, and placing be- 
 fore the Duke specious arguments to justify him for following 
 his own way. 
 
 " This lofty presence mtist excuse me," he said, " if I speak 
 in defence of my honor, and those of rriy bold lances, who have 
 followed my fortunes from Italy to serve the bravest Prince in 
 Christendom. I might, indeed, pass over without resentment 
 the outrageous language of this gray-haired churl, whose words 
 cannot affect a knight and a nobleman more than the yelling of 
 a peasant's mastiff. But when I hear him propose to associate 
 his band of mutinous misgoverned ruffians with your Highness's 
 troops, I must let him know that there is not a horSe-boy in my 
 ranks who would fight in such fellowship. No, even I myself, 
 bound by a thousand ties of gratitude, could not submit to strive 
 abreast- with such comrades. I would fold up my banners, and 
 lead five thousand men to seek, not a nobler master, for the 
 world has none such, but wars in which we might not be obliged 
 to blush for our assistants." 
 
 " Silence, Canipo-Bassp," said the Duke, "and be; assured 
 you serve a prince who knows your worth too well to exchange 
 it for the untried and untrustful services of those, whom we 
 have only known as vexatious and malignant neighbors." 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 33 1 
 
 Then addressing himself to Arnold Biederman, he said coldly 
 and sternly, " Sir Landamman, we have heard you fairly. We 
 have heard ydti, although you come before us with hands dyed 
 deep in the blood of our servant, Sir Archibald de Hagenbach ; 
 for, supposing he was murdered by a villainous association — 
 which, by'Saint George ! shall never, while we live and reign, 
 raise its pestilential head on this side of the Rhine — yet at is 
 not the less undeniable and undenied, that you stood by in 
 arms, and encouraged the deed the assassins performed under 
 your countenance. Retui-n to your mountains, and be thankful . 
 that you return in life. Tell those who sent you that I will be > 
 presently on their frontiers. A deputation of your most notable 
 persons, who meet me With halters round their necks, torches in 
 their left hands, in their right their swords held' by the point, 
 may learn on what conditions we will grant you peace." 
 
 " Then farewell peace, and welcome war," said the Landam- 
 man ; "and be its plagues and curses on the heads of those 
 who choose blood and strife rather than peace and union. We' 
 will meet you on ourfrontiers with our naked swords, but the 
 hilts, not their points, shall be in our grasp. Charles of Bur-; 
 gundy, Flanders, and Lorraine, Duke of seven dukedoms. Count 
 of seventeen earldoms, I bid )'0u defiance ; and declare war 
 against you in the name of the Confederate Cantons, and such 
 Others as shall adhere to them. There," he said, " are my letters 
 of defiance." 
 
 The herald took from Arnold Biederman the fatal denuncia- 
 tion. 
 
 " Read it not, Toison d'Or ! " said the haughty Duke. " Let 
 the executioner drag it through the Streets at his horse's tail, 
 and nail it to the gibbet, to show in what account we hold the 
 paltry scroll, and those who sent it. — Away, sirs," speaking to 
 the Swiss, " trudge back to your wildernesses with such haste 
 as your feet can use. When we next meet, you shall better 
 know whom you have offended. — Get our horse ready — the 
 council is' broken up." 
 
 The Maire Of Dijon, when all were in motion to leave the 
 hall, again approached the Duke, and timidly expressed some 
 hopes that his Highness would deign to partake of a banquet 
 which the magistracy had prepared, in expectation he might do 
 them such an honor. 
 
 " No, by Saint George of Burgundy, Sir Maire," said Charles, 
 with one of the withering glances by which he was wont to ex- 
 press indignation mixed with contempt; "you have not pleased 
 us so well with our breakfast as to induce us to trust our dinner 
 to the loyalty of our good town of Dijon." 
 
332 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 So saying, he rudely turned off from the mortified chief 
 magistrate, and, mounting liis horse, rode back to his camp,j- 
 conversing earnestly on the way with the Count of Campo-, 
 Basso. 
 
 " I would offer you dinner, my Lord of Oxford," said Colvin 
 to that nobleman, when he alighted at his tent, .""but I foresee, 
 ere you could swallow a, mouthful, you will be summoned to the 
 Duke's presence ; for it is our Charles's way, when he has fixed 
 on a wrong course, to wrangle with his friends and counselors, 
 in order to prove it is a right one. Marry, he always makes a 
 convert of yon supple Italian," , 
 
 Colvin's augury was speedily, realized ; for a page almost 
 immediately summoned the English merchant, Philipson, to 
 attend the DuKe. Without waiting an instant, Charles poured 
 forth an incoherent tide of reproaches against the Estates of 
 his dukedom, for refusing him their countenance in so slight. a 
 matter, and launched out in explanations of the necessity which 
 he alleged there was for punishing the audacity of the Swiss, 
 And thou, too, Oxford," he concluded, " art such an impatient 
 fool as to wish me to- indulge in a distant war with England, 
 and transport forces over the sea, when I have such insolent 
 mutineers to chastise on my own frontiers ? " 
 
 When he was at length silent, the English Earl laid before 
 him, with respectful earnestness, the danger that appeared to 
 be involved in engaging with a people, poor indeed, but uni- 
 versally dreaded, from their discipline and courage, and that 
 under the eye of so dangerous a rival as Louis of France, who 
 was sure' to support the Duke's enemies underhand, if he did 
 not join them openly. On this point the Duke's resolution was 
 immovable. "It shall never," he said, "be told of me, that I 
 uttered threats which I dared not execute. These boors have 
 declared war agains.t me, and they shall learn whose wrath it is 
 that they have wantonly provoked ; but I do not, therefore, 
 renounce thy scheme, my good Oxford. If thou canst procure 
 me this same cession of Provence, and induce old Rene to give 
 up the cause of his grandson, Ferrand of Vaudemont, in Lor- 
 raine, thou wilt make it well worth my while to send thee brave 
 aid against my brother Blackburn, who, while he is drinking 
 healths pottle-deep in France, may well come to lose his lands 
 in England. And be not impatient because I cannot at this 
 very instant send men across the seas. The march which I am 
 making toward Neufchatel, which is, I think, the nearest point 
 where I shall find these churls, will be but like a morning's 
 excursion. I trust you will go with us, old companion. I 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 333 
 
 should like to see if you have forgotten, among yonder moun- 
 tains, how to back a horse and lay a lance in rest." 
 
 " I will wait on your Highness," said the Earl, " as is my 
 duty, for my motions must depend upon your pleasure. But I 
 •will not carry arms, especially against those people of Helvetia, 
 frism whom I have experienced laospitality, unless it be for my 
 own personal defence." 
 
 " Well," replied the Duke, " e'en be it so ; we shall have in 
 you an excellent judge, to tell us who best discharges his devoir 
 against the mountain clowns." 
 
 At this point in the conversation, there was a knocking at 
 the entrance, of the pavilibn, and the' Chancellor of Burgundy 
 presently entered in great haste and anxiety. "News, my 
 Lord — riews of France and England," said the prelate, and then, 
 observing the presence of a stranger, he looked at the Duke, 
 and was silent. 
 
 " It is a faithful friend, my Lord Bishop," said the Duke ; 
 " you may tell your news before him." 
 
 " It will soon be generally known," said the Chancellor — 
 " Louis and Edward are fully accorded. Both the^ Duke and 
 the English Earl started. 
 
 " I expected this,"/said the Duke, " but not so soon," 
 " The Kings have met," answered his minister. 
 " How — in battle ? " said Oxford, forgetting himself in his 
 extreme eagerness. 
 
 The chancellor was somewhat surprised, but as the Duke 
 seemed to expect him to give an answer, he replied, " No, Sir 
 Stranger, not in battle, but upon appointment, and in peace and 
 amit}-." 
 
 " The sight must have been worth seeing;,'' said the Duke ; 
 " when the old fox Louis, and my brother Black — I mean my 
 brother Edward-^met. Where held they their rendezvous ? " 
 " On a bridge over the Seine, at Picquigny." 
 " I would thou hadst been there," said the Duke, looking to 
 Oxford, " with a good axe in thy hand, to strike one fair blow 
 for England, and another for Burgundy. My grandfather was 
 treacherously slain at just such a meeting, at the Bridge of 
 Montfereau, upon the Yonne." 
 
 " To prevent a similar chance," said the chancellor, " a 
 strong barricade, such as closes the cages in \yhich men keep 
 ■wild beasts, was raised in the midst of the bridge, and prevented 
 the possibility of their even touching each other's hands." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! By Saint George, that smells iaf Louis's craft and 
 caution ; for the Englishman, to give him his due, is as little 
 acquainted with fear as with policy. But what terms have they 
 
334 
 
 ANNE OF GEJEKSTEIN: 
 
 made ? Where do the Englisli army winter ? Wh^t towns, 
 fortresses, and castles, are surrendered to them, in pledge or iti 
 perpetuity ? " 
 
 " None, my liege," said the chancellor. " The English army 
 returns into England as fast as shipping can be procured to 
 transport them ; and Louis will accommodate them with every 
 sail and oar in his dominions, rather tlian they should not in- 
 stantly evacuate France." 
 
 "And by what confessions has Louis bought a peace so 
 necessary to his affairs ? " 
 
 " By fair words," said the chancellor, " by liberal presents, 
 and by some five hundred tuns of wine." 
 
 " Wine ! " exclaimed the Duke — " Heard-st thou ever the 
 like, Seignor Philipson ? Why, yoiir countrymen are little 
 better than Esau who sold his birthright for a mess of pottage. 
 Marry, I must confess I never saw an Englishman who loved £i 
 dry-lipped bargain." 
 
 "I can scarce believe this news," said the Earl of Oxford. 
 
 " If this Edward were content to cross the sea with fifty thou- 
 sand Englishmen merely to return again, there are in his camp 
 both proud nobles and haughty commons enough to resist his 
 disgraceful purpose." 
 
 " The money of Louis," said the statesman, " has found noble 
 hands willing to clutch it. The wine of France has flooded every 
 throat in the English army — the riot and uproar was unbounded 
 — and at one time the town of Amiens, where Louis himself 
 resided, was full of so many English archers, all of them intoxi- 
 cated, that the person of the King of France was almost in their 
 hands. Their sense of naltional honor has been lost in the 
 univeirsal revel, and tlipse amongst them whp would be more 
 dignified and play the wise politicians say, that having come to 
 Franoe by connivance of the Duke of Burgundy, and that prince 
 having failed to join them with his forces, they baye done well, 
 wisely, and gallantly, considering , the season of the year, 
 and the impossibility of : obtaining quarters, to take tribute of 
 France, and return home in triumph." 
 
 " And leave Louis," said, Oxford, " at undisturbed freedom 
 to attack Burgundy with all his forces .? " 
 
 " Not so, friend' Philipson," said Duke Charles ; " know, that 
 there is a truce betwixt Burgundy and France for the space of 
 seven years, and had not this been granted and signed, it is 
 probable that we might have found some means of marring the 
 treaty betwixt Edward and Louis, even at the expense of 
 affording those voracious islanders beef and beer during the 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 335 
 
 winter months. — Sir Chancellor, you may leave us, but be within 
 reach of a hasty summons." 
 
 When his minister left the pavilion, the Duke, who, \yith his 
 rude and imperious character united much kindness, if it could 
 not be termed generosity of disposition, came up to the Lanpas- 
 trian lord, who stood, like one at whose feet a thunderbolt has 
 ' just broken, and who is still appalled by the terrors of the 
 shock. 
 
 " My poor Oxford," he said, " thou art stupefied by this 
 news, which thou canst not doubt must have a fatal effecr on 
 the plan which thy brave bosom cherishes with such devoted 
 fidelity. I would for thy sake I could h^ve detained the English 
 a little longer in France ; but had I attempted to do so, there 
 were an end of my truce with Louis, and of course to my power 
 to chastise these paltry Cantons, or send forth an expedition to 
 England. As matters stand, give me but a week to punish 
 these mountaineers, and you shall have a larger force than 
 your modesty has requested of me for your enterprise ; and, in 
 the meanwhile, I will take care that Blackburn and his cousin- 
 aVchers have no assistance of shipping from Flanders, Tush, 
 man, never fear it — thou wilt be in England long ere they; 
 and, once more, rely on my assistance — always, thou knowest, 
 the cession of Provence being executed, as in reason. Our 
 cousin Margaret's diamonds we must keep for a time ; and 
 perhaps they may pass as a pledge, with some of our own, for 
 the godly purpose of setting at freedom the imprisoned angels 
 of our Flemish usurers, who will not lend even to their sov- 
 ereign unless on good current security. To such straits has 
 the disobedient avarice of our estates for the moment reduced 
 us." 
 
 " Alas ! my Lord," said the dejected nobleman, " I were 
 ungrateful to doubt the sincerity of your good intentions. But 
 who can presume on the events, of war, especially when time 
 presses for instant decision ?, You. are pleased to trust me. Let 
 your Highness extend your confidence thus far : I- \Vill take ray 
 liorse and ride after the Landamman, if he hath "already set 
 forth. I have little doubt to make such an accommodation 
 with him that you maybe secure on all your south-eastern fron- 
 iers. You may then w'ith security work your will in Lorraine 
 end Provence." 
 
 " Do not speak of it," said the Duke, sharply ; "^thou for- 
 get'st thyself and me, when thou supposest that a prince, who 
 has pledged his word to his people, can recall it like a mer- 
 chant chaffering for his paltry wares. Go to— we will assist you, 
 but we will be ourselves judge of the time and manner. Yet, 
 
336 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 having both kind will to our distressed cousin of Anjou, and 
 being your good friend, we will not linger in the matter. Cjut 
 host have orders to break up this evening and direct thfeir 
 march against 'Neufchatel, where these proud Swiss shall haVe 
 a tafete of the fire and sword which they have provoked." ! 
 
 Oxford sighed deepl3', but made no further remonstrance • 
 in which he acted widely, since it was likely to have exasper- 
 ated the fiery temper of the sovereign to whom it was addressed, 
 while it was certain that it would not in the slightest degree 
 alter his resolution. 
 
 He took farewell of the Duke, and returned to Colvin, whom 
 he found immersed in the business of his department, and pre- 
 jDaring for the removal of the artillery, an operation which the 
 clumsiness of the ordnance, and the execrable state of the 
 roads, rendered at that time a much more troublesome opera- 
 tion than at present, though it is even still one of the most labor- 
 ious movements attending the march of an army. The Master 
 of the Ordnance welcome^ Oxford with much glee, and congratu- 
 lated himself on. the distinguished honor of enjoying his com- 
 pany during the campaign, and acquainted him, that, by the 
 especial command of the Duke, he had made fitting preparations 
 for his accommodation, suitable to the disguised character which 
 he meant to maintain, but in every other respect as convenient 
 as a Camp could admit of. 
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-NINTH. 
 
 A mirthful man he was — the snows of age 
 Fell, but they did not chillhim. Gayety, 
 Even ill life's closing, touch'd his teeming brain ' 
 With such wild visions as the setting sun 
 Raises in front of some hoar glacier. 
 Painting the bleak ice with a thousand hues. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 Leaving the Earl of Oxfprd in attendance on the stubborn 
 Duke of Burgundy during an iexpedition, which the one repre- 
 sented as a brief excursion more resemblirig a hunting party 
 than a Campaign, and which the other considered in a much 
 graver and more perilous light, we return to Arthur de Vere, 
 or the younger Philipson, as he continued to be called, who was 
 conducted by his guide with fidelity and success, but certainl 
 verj' slow^ly, upon his Jotifney into Provence. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 337 
 
 The state of Lorraine, overrun by the Dujce of Burgundy's 
 ?irmy, and infested at the same time by different scattered 
 bands, who took the field, or held out the castles, as they 
 alleged, for the interest of Count Ferrand de Vaudemont, ren- 
 dered journeying so dangerous, that it was often necessary to 
 leave the main road, and to take circuitous tracks, in order to 
 avoid such unfriendly encounters as travelers might otherwise 
 have met with. 
 
 Arthur, taught by sad experience to distrust strange guides, 
 found himself, nevertheless, in this eventful and perilous jour- 
 ney, disposed to rest considerable confidence in his present 
 conductor, Thiebault, a Provengal by birth, intimately acquaint- 
 ed with the roads which they took, and, ; as far as he could 
 judge, disposed to discharge his office with fidelity. Prudence 
 alike, and the habits which he had acquired in traveling, as 
 well as the character of a merchant which he still sustained, 
 induced him to waive the morgue, or haughty superiority of a 
 knight and noble toward an inferior personage, especially as he 
 rightly conjectured that free intercourse with this man, whose 
 acquirements seemed of a superior cast, was likely to render 
 him a judge of his opinions and disposition toward him. Jn 
 return for his condescension, he obtained a good deal of^ in- 
 formation concerning the province which he was approaching. 
 
 As they drew near the boundaries of Provence, the com- 
 munications of Thiebault became more fluent and interesting. 
 He could not only tell the name and history of each romantic 
 castle which they passed, in their devious and doubtful route, 
 but had at his command the chivalrqus history of the noble 
 knights and barons to whom they now pertained, or had be- 
 longed in earlier days, and could recount their exploits agaipst 
 the Saracens, by repelling their attacks upon; Christendom, or 
 their efforts to recover the Holy Sepulchre from Pagan hands. 
 In the course of such narrations, Thiebault was led to speak of 
 the Troubadours, a race of native poets of Provencal origin, 
 differing widely from the minstrels of Normandy, and the ad- 
 jacent provinces of France, with whose tales of chivalry, as well 
 as the numerous translations of their works into Norman-French 
 and English, Arthur, like most of the noble youth of his 
 country, was intimately acquainted and deeply imbued. Thie- 
 bault boasted that his grandsire, of humble birth indeed, but of 
 distinguished talent, was one of this gifted race, whose com- 
 positions produced so great an effect on the temper and 
 manners of their age and country. It was, howeyer, to be re- 
 gretted, that, inculcating as the prime duty of life a fantastic 
 spirit of gallantry, which sometimes crossed the Platonic bound 
 
238 ANNE OF GBIERSTEIN. 
 
 prescribed to it, the poetry of the Troubadours was too fre- 
 quently used to soften and seduce the heart, and corrupt the 
 principles.* 
 
 Arthur's attention was called to this peculiarity, by Thiebault 
 singing, which he could do with good skill, the history of a 
 Troubadour, named William Cabestainy, who loved, par 
 amours, a noble and beautiful lady, Margaret, the wife of a 
 baron called Raymond de Roussillon. The jealous husband 
 obtained proof of his dishonor, and having piit Cabestainy to 
 death by assassination, he took his heart from his bosom, and 
 causing it to be dressed like that of an animal, ordered it to be 
 served up to his lady ; and when , she had eaten of the 
 horrible mess, told her of what her banquet was composed. 
 The lady replied, that since she had been made to partake 
 of food so precious, no coarser morsel should ever after 
 cross her lipis. She persisted in her resolution, and thus 
 starved herself to death. The Troubadour, who celebrated 
 this tragic history, had displayed in his composition a good 
 deal of poetic art. Glossing over the error of the lovers 
 as the fault of their destiny, dwelling on their tragical 
 fate with considerable pathos, and finally, execrating the blind 
 fury of the husband with the full fervor of poetical indignation, 
 he recorded, with vindictive pleasure, how every bold knight 
 and true lover in the south of Trance assembled to besiege ihe 
 baron's castle, stormed it by main force, left not one stone upon 
 another, and put the tyrant himself to an ignominious death. 
 Arthiir was interested in the melancholy tale, which even 
 beguiled hini of a few tears ; but as he thought further on its 
 purport, he dried his eyes, and said with some sternness — 
 " Thiebault, sing me no more such lays. I have heard my 
 father say, that the readiest mode to corrupt a Christian man, 
 is to bestow upon vice the pity and the praise which are due 
 only to virtue. Your Baron of Roussillon is n monster of 
 cruelty ; but your unfortunate lovers were not the less guilty. 
 It is by giving fair names to foul actions, that those who would 
 start at real vice are led to practice its lessons, under the dis- 
 guise of virtue." 
 
 " I would you knew, Seignor," answered Thiebault, " that 
 this Lay of Cabestainy and the Lady Margaret of Roussillon 
 is reckoned a masterpiece of the joyous science. Fie, sir, vou 
 are too young to be so strict a censor of morals. What will 
 you do when your head is gray, if you are thus severe when it 
 is scarcely brown ? " 
 
 • Note D. Proven9al Troubadours. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEII^. 339 
 
 " A head which listens to folly in youth will hardly be 
 honorable in old age," answered Arthur. 
 
 Thiebault had no mind to carry the dispute further. 
 
 " It is not for me to contend with your worship. I only 
 think, with every true son of chivalry and song, that a knight 
 without a mistress is like a sky without a star." 
 
 " Do I not know that t " answered Arthur ; " but )'et better 
 remain in darkness than be guided by such false lights as 
 shower down vice and pestilence." 
 
 " Nay, it maybe your seignorie is right," answered the guide. 
 " It is certain, that even in Provence here we have lost much 
 of our keen judgment on matters of love,— its difficulties, its 
 intricacies, and its errors, — since the Troubadours are no longer 
 regarded as usual, and since the High arid Noble Parliament of 
 Love * has ceased to hold its sittings." 
 
 " But in these latter days, "continued the Proven5al, " kings', 
 dukes, and sovereigns, instead of being the forem'ost and most 
 faithful vassals of the Court of Cupid, are themselves the slaves 
 of selfishness and love of gain. Instead of winning hearts by 
 breaking lances in the lists, they are breaking the hearts of their 
 impoverished vassals by the most cruel exactions — instead of 
 attempting to deserve the smile and favors of their lady-loves, 
 they are meditating how to steal castles, towns, and provinces 
 from their neighbors. But long life to the good and venerable 
 King Rendl While he his an acre of land left, his residence 
 will be the resort of valiant knights, whose only aim is praise in 
 arras, of true lovers who are persecuted by fortune, and of high- 
 toned harpers who know how to' celebrate faith and valor." 
 
 Arthur, interested in learning something more precise than 
 common fame had taught him on the subject of this prince, 
 easily induced the talkaive Proven9al to enlarge upon the 
 virtues of his old sovereign's character, as just, joyous, and 
 debonair, a friend to the most noble exercises of the chase and 
 the tilt-yard, and still more so to the joyous science of Poetry 
 and Music ; who gave away more revenue that he received, in 
 largesses to knights-errant and itinerant musicia;ns, with whom 
 his petty cciurt was crowded, as one of the very few in which 
 the ancient hospitality was still maintained. 
 
 Such was the picture which Thiebault drew of the last 
 minstrel-monarch ; and though the eulogium was exaggerated, 
 perhaps the .facts were not overcharged. 
 
 Born of royal parentage, and with high pretensions,- Rend 
 had at no period of his life been able to match his fortunes to 
 
 * Note E. Parliament of' Love. 
 
340 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 his claims. Of the kingdoms to which he asserted right, noth- 
 ing remained in his possession but the county of Provence itself, 
 a fair and fertile principality, but dimini^hed'by the many claims 
 which France had acquired upon portions of it by advances of 
 money to supply, the personal expenses of its master, and by other 
 portions, which Burgundy, to whom Rend had been a priso;ier, 
 held in pledge for his ransom. In his youth he engaged in more 
 than one military enterprise, in the hope of attaining some part 
 of the territory of which he was styled sovereign. His courage 
 is not in^peached, but fortune did not smile on his mihtary 
 adventures ; and he seems at last to have become sensible, that 
 the power of admiring and celebrating warlike merit is very 
 different from possessing that quality. In fact, Rend was a 
 prince of very inoderate parts, endowed with a love of the fine 
 arts, which he carried to extremity, and a degree of good 
 humor, which never permitted him to repine at fortune, but 
 rendered its possessor happy, when a prince of keener feelings 
 ivould have died of despair. This insouciarit, light-tempered, 
 gay, and thoughtless disposition, conducted Rend, free from all 
 the passions which embitter life, and often shorten it, fio a hale 
 and mirthful old age. Even doniestic losses, which often affect 
 those who are proof against mere reverses of fortune,, made no 
 deep impression on the feelings of this cheerful old, monarch.' 
 Most of his children had died yo;upg ; Rend took it not to 
 heart. His daughter Margaret's marriage with the powerful 
 Henry of England was considered a connection much above 
 the fortunes of the King of the Troubadours. But in the issue, 
 instead of Rend deriving any splendor from the match, he was 
 invplved in the misfortunes of his daughter, and repeatedly 
 obliged to impoverish himself to supply her ransom. Perhaps in 
 his private soul the old, king did not think these losses so morti- 
 fying, as the necessity of receiving Margaret into liis court and 
 family. On fire when reflecting on the losses she had sustained, 
 mourning over friends slain and kingdoms lost, the proudest and 
 most passionate of princesses was ill suited to dwell with the 
 gayest and best-humored of sovereigns, whose pursuits she 
 contemned, and whose lightness of temper, for finding comfort 
 in such trifles, she could not forgive. The discom'fort attached 
 to her presence and vindictive recollections, embarrassed the 
 good-humored old monarch, though it was unable to drive him 
 beyond his equanimity. 
 
 Another distress pressed; him more sorely. — Yolande a 
 daughter of his first wife, Isabella, haci succeeded to his claims 
 upon the Duchy of Lorraine, and transmitted them to her son, 
 Ferrand, Count of Vauderaont, a young man of courage and 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 341 
 
 spirit, engaged at this time in the apparently desperate under^ 
 taking of making his title good against the Duke of Burgundy, 
 who, with little right, but great power, was seizing upon and 
 overrunning this rich Duchy, which he laid claim to as a male 
 fief. And to conclude, while the aged king on one side beheld 
 his dethroned daughter in hopeless despair, and on the other 
 his disinherited grandson, in vain attempting to recover part of 
 their rights, he had the additional misfortune to know, that his 
 nephew, Louis of France, and his cousin, the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy,, were secretly contending which should succeed him in 
 that portion of Provence which he still continued to possess ; 
 and that it was only jealousy of each other which prevented his 
 being desjDoiled of this last remnant of his territory. Yet amid 
 all this distress, Rend feasted and received guests, danced, 
 sang, composed poetrv, used the pencil or brush with no small 
 skill, devised ancj conducted festivals and processions, and, 
 studying to promote, as far as possible, the immediate mirth 
 and good-humor of his subjects, if he cdtild not materially en- 
 large their more permanent prosperity, was never mentioned, by 
 them, excepting as Le ban Rot Rend, a distinction conferred on 
 him down to the present day, and due to him cfertainly by the 
 qualities of his heart, if not by those of his head. 
 
 Whilst Arthur was receiving froffi his guide a full account 
 of the peculiarities of King Rend, they entered the territories 
 of that merry monarch. It was late in, the autumn, and about 
 the period when the south-eastern courities of France rather 
 show to leasj; advantage. The foliage of the olive-tree is then 
 decayed and withered, and as it predominates in the landscape 
 and resembles the scorched' complexion of the soil itself, an 
 ashen and arid hue is given to the whole. Still, however, there 
 were scenes in the hilly and pastoral parts of the country, where 
 the quantity of evergreens relieved the eye even in ' this dead 
 season. ... , ^ ^ 
 
 The appearance of the country in general had much in it 
 that was peculiar. 
 
 The travelers perceived at every turn some marks of the 
 King's singular character. Provence, as the part'bf Gaul which 
 first received Roman civilization, and as having been still longer 
 the residence of the Grecian colony whpiounded MarseilTes, is 
 mote full of the splendid relics of ancient architecture than any 
 other country in Europe, Italy and (jireece excepted. The good 
 taste of the King Rend had dictated some attempts' to clear out 
 and restore these memorials of antiquity. Was there a tri- 
 umphal arch, or an ancient temple — huts and hovels were cleared 
 away from its vicinity, and means were used at least to retard 
 
342 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 the approach of ruin. Was there a marble fountain, which su- 
 perstition had dedicated to some sequestered naiad — it was sur- 
 rounded by olives, almonds and orange trees — its cistern was 
 repaired, and taught once more to retain its crystal treasures. 
 The huge amphitheatres, and gigantic colonnades, experienced 
 the same anxious care, attesting that the noblest specimens of 
 the fine arts fouiid one admirer and preserver in King Ren^, 
 even during the course of those which are termed the dark and 
 barbarous ages. 
 
 A change of manners could also be observed in passing from 
 Burgundy and Lorraine, where society relished of German 
 bluntness, into the pastoral coiantry of Provence, where the in- 
 fluence of a fine climate and melodious language, joined to the 
 pursuits of the romantic old monarch,- with the universal taste 
 for music and poetry, had introduced a civilization of manners, 
 which approached to affectation.' The shepherd literally 
 marched abroad in the morning, piping his flocks forth to the 
 pasture, with some love sonnet, the composition of an amorous 
 Troubadour ; and his " fleecy care " seemed actually to be under 
 the influence of his music, instead of being ungraciously in- 
 sensible to its mqlody, as is the case in colder climates. Arthur 
 observed, too, tjjat the Provencal sheep, instead of being driven 
 before the shepherd, regularly followed him, and did not dis- 
 perse to feed until the swain, by turning his face round to them, 
 remaining stationary,' and executing variations on the air which 
 he was playing, seemed to remind them that it was proper 
 to do so. While in. motion, his huge dog, of a species which is 
 trained to face the wolf, .and who is respected by the sheep as 
 their guardian, and not feared as their tyrant, followed Jiis 
 master with his ears pricked, like the chie'f critic and prime 
 judge of the performance, at some tones of which he seldom 
 failed to intimate disapprobation; while the flock, like the, 
 generality of an audience, followed in unanimous though silent 
 applause. At the hour of noon, the shepherd had sometimes 
 acquired an augmentation to his audience, ' as some comely 
 matron or bloonjing maiden, with whom he had rendezvoused 
 by such a fountain as we have 'described, and who listened to 
 the husband's or lover's chalumeau, or mingled her voice with 
 his in the duets, of' which the songs of the Troubadours have 
 left so many examples. In the cool of the evening, the dance 
 on the village green, or the concert before the hamlet door; 
 the little repast of fruits, cheese, and bread, which the traveler 
 was readily invited to share, gave new charms to the illusion 
 and seemed in earnest to point out Provence as the Arcadia of 
 France. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. _ 343 
 
 But the greatest singularity was, in tlie eyes of Arthur, the 
 total absence of armed men and soldiers in this peaceful cpun- 
 try. In England, no man stirred without his long-bow, sword^ 
 and buckler. In France, the hind wore armor even when he 
 ■wasTietwixt the stilts of his plough. In Germany, you could 
 not look along a mile of highway, but the eye was encountered 
 by clouds of dust, out of which were seen, by fits, waving feath- 
 ers and flashing artaor. Even in Switzerland, the peasant, if 
 he had a journey to make, though but of a mile or twbi cared 
 not to travel without his halbert and two-hatided sword.- But 
 in Provence all seemed quiet and peaceful, as if the music of 
 the land had lulled to sl^ep all its wrathful passions. Now and 
 then a-mounted cavalier might pass them, the harp at whosft 
 saddle-bow, or carried by one of his attendants, attested the 
 character of a Troubadour, which was' affected by men of all 
 ranks ; and then only a short sword on his left thigh, borne fpr 
 show rather than use, was a necessary and appropriate part of 
 his equipment. r 
 
 "Peace" said Arthur, as he looked around him, "is an'in-^ 
 estimable jewel ; but it will be soon snatched from those who 
 are not prepared with heart and hand to defend it." 
 
 The sight of the ancient and interesting town of Aix, where, 
 King Rend held his court, dispelled reflections of a general, 
 character, and recalled to the young Englishman ■ the peculiar; 
 mission on which he was engaged. 
 
 He then required to know from the Provengal, Thiebault,- 
 whether his instructions were to leave him, now that he had. 
 successfully attained the end of his journe}'. 
 
 " My instructions," answered Thiebault, " are to remain in 
 Aix while there is any chance of your seignorie's continuing, 
 there to be of such use to you as you may require, either as a 
 guide or an attendant, and to keep these men in ireadiness to 
 wait upon you when you have occasion for messengers or guards.' 
 With your approbation, I will see them disposed of in fitting 
 quarters, and receive my further instructions from your seignorie 
 wherever you please to appoint me. I propose this separation, 
 because I understand it is your present pleasure to be private."- 
 
 " I must go to court," answered Arthur, " without any delay. 
 Wait for me in half-an-hour by that fountain in the street, which 
 projects into the air such a magnificent pillar of water, sur- 
 rounded, I would almost swear, by a vapor like steam, serving 
 as a shroud to the jet which it envelops." , 
 
 " The jet is so surrounded," answered the Provengal, "because 
 it is supplied by a hot spring rising from the bowels of the earth, 
 and the touch of frost on this autumn morning makes the vapor 
 
344 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 more distinguishable than usual. — But if it is good King Ren^ 
 whom you seek, you will find him at this time walking in his 
 chimney. Do not be afraid of apprpaching him, for there 
 never was a monarch so easy of access, especially to good- 
 looking strangers like your seignorie." , , 
 
 " But his ushers," said Arthur, " will not admit me into his 
 hall." 
 
 " His hall ! " repeated thiebault— " Whose hall ? " 
 
 " Why, King Rend's, I apprehend. If he is walking in a 
 chimney, it can only be in that of his hall, and a stately one it 
 must be to gjve him room for such exercise." 
 
 " You rhistake my meaning," said the guide, laughing. — 
 "What we call King Rent's chimney is the narrow parapet 
 yonder; it extends between these two towers, has an exposure 
 to the south, and is sheltered in every other direction. Yonder 
 it is his pleasure to walk and enjoy the beams of the sun, on 
 such cool morning^ as the present. It nurses, he says, his 
 poetical vein. If you approach his promenade he will readily 
 speak to you, unless, indeed, he is in the very act of a poetical 
 composition." 
 
 Arthur could not forbear smiling at the thoughts of a king, 
 eighty years of age, broken down with; misfortunes and beset 
 with dangers, who yet amused himself with, walking in an open 
 parapet, and composing poetry in presence of all such of his 
 loving subjects as chose to look on. 
 
 " If you will walk a few steps this way," said; Thiebault, 
 "you may see the good King, and judge whether or not you 
 will accost him at present. I will dispose of the people, and 
 await your orders at the fountain in the Corso." 
 
 Arthur saw no objection to the proposal of his guide, and 
 was riot unwilling to have an opportunity of seeing somethingi 
 of the good King Rend, before he was introduced to his 
 presence. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. g^j' 
 
 CHAPTER THIRTIETH. 
 
 Ay, this is lie who wears the wreath of bays 
 
 Wove by Apollo and the Sisters Nine, 
 
 Which Jove's dread lightning scathes not. He hath doft 
 
 The cumbrous helm of s,teel, and flung aside 
 
 The yet more galling diadem of gold; 
 
 While, with a leafy circlet round his larows. 
 
 He reigns the King of Lovers and of Poets. 
 
 A CAUTIOUS approach to the chimney, that is, the favorite 
 walk of the King, who is described by Shakspearie as bearing 
 
 the style of the King of Naples, 
 
 Of both the Sicilies, and Jerusalem, 
 
 Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman, 
 
 gave Arthur the perfect survey of his Majesty in person. He 
 saw an old man, with locks and beard, which, in amplitude and 
 whiteness, nearly rivaled those of the envoy from Schwyti, but 
 with a fresh and ruddy color in his cheek, and an eye of great 
 vivacity. His dress was showy to a degree alrrtost inconsistent 
 with his years ; and his step, not only firm, but full of alertness 
 and vivacity, while occupied in traversing the short and shel- 
 tered walk, which he had chosen, rather for comfort than for 
 privacy, showed juvenile vigor still animating an aged frame. 
 The old King carried his tablets and a pencil in his hand, 
 seeming totally abstracted in his own thoughts, and indifferent 
 to being' obseirved by several persons from the public street 
 beneath his elevated promenade. 
 
 '• Of these, some, from their dress and manner, seemed them- 
 selves Troubadours; for they held in their hands rebecks, 
 rotes, small portable harps, and other indications of their pro- 
 fession. Such appeared to -be stationary, as if engaged in 
 observing and recording their remarks on the meditations of 
 their Prince. Other passengers, bent on their own more seri- 
 ous affairs, Idoked up to the King as to some one whom they 
 they were accustomed to see daily, but never passed withotit 
 dbfHng their bonnets, and expressing, by suitable obeisance, a 
 respect and affection toward his person, which appeared to 
 make' up in cordiality of feeling what is wanted in deep and 
 solemn deference. 
 
 Rene, in the meanwhile, was apparently unconscious both o| 
 
346 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 the gaze of such as stood still, or the greeting of those who 
 passed on, his mind seeming altogether engrossed with 
 the apparent labor of some arduous task in poetry or music. 
 He walked fast or slow as best suited the progress of compo- 
 sition. At times he stopped to mark hastily down on his tab- 
 lets something which seemed to occur to him as deserving of 
 preservation ; at other times he dashed out what he had written, 
 and flung down the pencil as if in a sort of despair. On these 
 occasions, the Sibylline leaf was carefully picked up by a beauti- 
 ful page, his only attendant, who reverently observed the first 
 suitable opportunity of restoring it again to his royal hand. 
 The same youth bore a viol, on -which, at a signal from his 
 master, he occasionally struck a few musical notes, to which 
 the old King listened, now with a soothed and satisfied air, 
 now with a discontented and anxious brow. At times, his en- 
 thusiasm rose so high, that he even hopped and skipped with 
 an activity which his years did not promise ; at other times his 
 motions were extremely slow, and occasionally he stood still, 
 like one wrapped in the deepest and most anxious meditation. 
 When he chanced to look on the group which seemed to watch 
 his motions, and who ventured even to salute him with a mur- 
 mur of applause, it was only to distinguish them with a friendly 
 and good-humored nod; a salutation with which, likewise,! he 
 failed not to reply to the greeting of the occasional passengers, 
 when his earnest attention to his task, whatever it might be, 
 permitted him to observe them. 
 
 At length the royal eye lighted upon Arthur, whose attitude 
 of silent observation, and the distinction of his figure, pointed 
 him out as a stranger. Rend beckoned to his page, who, re- 
 ceiving his master's commands in a whisper, descended from 
 the royal chimney, to the broader platform beneath, which was 
 open to general resort. The youth, addressing Arthur with 
 much courtesy, informed him the King desired to speak with 
 him. The young Englishman had no alternative but that of 
 approaching, though .pondering much in his own mind how he 
 ought tp, comport himself toward such a singular specimen of 
 royalty. 
 
 When he drew near. King Rend addressed him in a tone of 
 courtesy not unmingled with dignity, and Arthur's awe in his 
 immediate presence was greater than he himself could have 
 anticipated from his previous conception of the royal character. 
 " You are, from your appearance, fair sir," said King Rene, 
 " a stranger in this country. By what name must we call you, 
 and to what business are we to ascribe the happiness of seeing 
 you at our court ? " 
 
ANN'E OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 347 
 
 ' Arthur remained a moment silent, and the good old man, 
 imputing it to awe and timidity, proceeded in an encouraging 
 tone. 
 
 " Modesty in youth is ever commendable ; you are doubtless 
 an acolyte in the noble and Joyous science of Minstrelsy and 
 Music, drawn hither by the ^yilli^g welcome which we afford 
 to the professors of those arts, in which — praise be to Our 
 Lady and the Saints !^we have ourself been deemed a pro- 
 ficient." 
 
 " I do not aspire to the honors of a Troubadour," answered 
 Arthur. 
 
 "I believe you," answered the King, "for your speech 
 smacks of the northern, or Norman-French, such as is spoken 
 in England and other unrefined nations. But you are a min- 
 strel perhaps, from these ultramontane parts. Be assured we 
 depise not their efforts ; for we have listened, not without 
 pleasure and instruction, to many of their bold and wild ro- 
 maunts, which, though rude in device and language, and there- 
 fore far inferior to , the regulated poetry of our Troubadours, 
 have yet something in their powerful and rough measure, which 
 occasionally rouses the heart like the sound of a trumpet." 
 
 " I have felt the truth, of your Grace's observation, when I 
 have- heard the songs of my country," said Arthur ; " but I 
 have neither skill nor audacity to imitate what I admire^ — My 
 latest residence has been in Italy." 
 
 " You are perhaps then a proficient in painting," said Ren^; 
 " an art which applies itself to the eye as poetry and music do 
 to the ear, and is scarce less in esteem with us. If you are 
 skilful in the art, you have come to a monarch who loves it, 
 and the fair country in which it is practiced." 
 
 " In simple truth. Sire, I am an Englishman, and my hand 
 has been too much welk'd and hardened by practice of the 
 bow, the lance, and the sword, to touch the harp, or even the 
 pencil." 
 
 " An Englishman 1 " said Ren^, obviously relaxing in the 
 warmth of bis welcome ; " and what brings your here .' Eng- 
 land and I have long had little friendship together." 
 
 " It is even on that account that I am here," said Arthur, 
 " I come to pay my homage to your Grace's daughter, the 
 Princess Margaret of Anjou, whom I and many true English- 
 men regard still as our Queen, though traitors have usurped 
 her title." 
 
 " Alas, good youth," said Ren^, " I must grieve for you, 
 while I respect your loyalty and faith. Had my daughter Mar- 
 garet been of my mind, she had long since abandoned preten- 
 
34S ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 sions, which have drowned in seas of blood the noblest and 
 bravest of her adherents." 
 
 The King seemed about to say more, but checked himself. 
 
 " Go to my palace," he said ; " inquire for the Seneschal 
 Hugh de Saint Cyr, he will give thee the means of seeing 
 Margaret, that is, if it be her will to see thee. If not, good 
 English youth, return to my palace, and thou shalt have hos- 
 pitable entertainment ; for a King who loves minstrelsy, 
 music, and painting, is ever most sensible to the claims of 
 honor, virtue, and loyalty ; and I read in thy looks thou art 
 possessed of these qualities, and willingly believe thou may'st, 
 in more quiet times, aspire to share the honors of the joyous 
 science. But if thou hast a heart to be touched by the sense 
 of beauty and fair proportion, it will leap within thee at the 
 first sight of my palace, the stately grace of which may be com- 
 pared to the faultless form of some high-bred dame, or the 
 artful, yet seemingly simple modulations of such a tune as we 
 have been now composing." 
 
 TheiKing seemed disposed to take his instrument, and in- 
 dulge the youth with a rehearsal of the strain he had just ar- 
 ranged ; but Arthur at that moment experienced the painful 
 internal feeling of that peculiar species of shame, which well- 
 constructed minds feel when they see others express a great 
 assumption of importance, with a confidence that they are ex- 
 citing admiration, when in fact they are only ex;posihg them- 
 selves to ridicule. Arthur, in short, took leave, " in very 
 shame," of the King of Naples, both the Sicilies, and Jerusa- 
 lem, in a manner somewhat more abrupt than ceremony de- 
 manded. The King looked after him, with some wonder at 
 this want of breeding, which however, he imputed to his 
 visitor's insular education, and then again began to twangle 
 his viol. ' " 
 
 " The old fool ! " said Arthur; " his daughter is dethroned, 
 his dominions crumbling to pieces, his family on the eve of 
 becoming extinct, his grandson driven from one lurking-place 
 to adother, and expelled from his mother's inheritance, — and 
 he can find amusement in these fopperies ! I thought him, 
 with his long white beard, like Nicholas Bonstetten ; but the 
 old Swiss is a Solomon compared with hint." 
 
 As these and other reflections, highly disparaging to King 
 Ren^, passed through Arthur's mind, he reached the place of 
 rendezvous, and found Thiebault, beneath the steaming foun- 
 tain, forced from one of those hot springs which had been the 
 delight of the Romans from an early period. Thiebault 
 having assured his master that his retinue, horse and man, 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 349 
 
 were so disposed as to be ready on an instant's call, readily 
 undertook to guide him to King Rend's palace, which, from its 
 singularity, and indeed its beauty of architecture, deserved the 
 eulogium which the old monarch had bestowed upon it. The 
 front consisted of , three towers of Roman architecture,, two of 
 them being placed on the angles of the palace, and the third, 
 ■which served the purpose of a mausoleum, forming a part of 
 the group, though somewhat detached from the other buildings. 
 This last was a structure of beautiful proportions. The lower 
 part of the edifice was square, serving as a sort of pedestal to 
 the upper part, which was circular, and surrounded by columns 
 of massive granite. The other t\yo towers at the angles of the 
 palace were round, and also ornamented with pillars, and with 
 a double row of windows. In front of, and connected with,, 
 these Roman remains, to which a date has been assigned as 
 early as the fifth or sixth century, arose the ancient palace of 
 the Counts of Provence, built a century or two later, but where 
 a rich Gothic or Moorish front contrasted, and yet harmonized,, 
 with the more regular and massive architecture of the lords o£ 
 the world. It is not more than |:hirty or. forty years since this' 
 very curious remnant of antique art waS destroyed to make 
 room for new public buildings, which have never yet been 
 erected. 
 
 Arthur really experienced some sensation of the kind which 
 the old King, had prophesied, and stood looking with 'wonder 
 at the ever-open gate of the palace, into which men of all 
 kinds seemed to enter freely. After looking around fot a few, 
 minutes, the young Englishman ascended the steps of a noble 
 portico, and asked of a porter, as old and as lazy as a great 
 man's domestic ought to be, for the seneschal named to him by 
 the King. rThe corpulent janitor, with great politeness, put 
 the stranger under the charge of a page, who ushered him to a 
 chamber, in which he found another aged functionary of higher 
 rank, with a comely face, a clear composed eye, and a brow 
 which, having never been knit into gravity, intimated that the 
 seneschal of Aix was a proficient in the philosophy of his roy^I.. 
 master. He recognized Arthur the moment he addressed him.; 
 
 " You speak northern French, fair sir ; you have lighter hair 
 and a fairer complexion than the natives of this country — You 
 ask after Queen Margaret — By all these marks I read you, 
 English— JHer Grace of England is at this moment paying a 
 vow at the monastery of^Moiit Saint Victoire, and if yourname 
 be Arthur Philipson,' I have commission to forward you to her 
 presence immediately, that is, as soon as you have tasted of the 
 royal provision." 
 
35° 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 The youftg man would have remonstrated, but the seneschal 
 left him no leisure. 
 
 "Meat and mass," he said, "never hindered work — it is 
 perilous to youth to journey too far on an empty stomach — he 
 himself would take a mouthful with the Queen's guest, and 
 pledge him to boot in a flask of old Hermitage." 
 
 The board was covered with an alacrity v^hich showed that 
 hospitality was familiarly exercised in King Rent's dominions. 
 Pasties, dishes of game, the gallant boar's head, and other 
 delicacies, were placed on the table, and the seneschal plaj-ed 
 the merry host, frequently apologizing (unnecessaril)') for 
 showing an indififerent example, as it was his duly to carve 
 before King Ren^, and the good King was never pleased unless 
 he saw him feed lustily as well as carve featly. 
 
 " But for you, sir guest, eat freely, since you may not see 
 food again till sunset ; for the good Queen takes her misfortunes 
 so to heart that sighs are her food, and her tears a bottle of 
 drink, as the Psalmist' hath it. But I bethink me you will need 
 steeds for yourself and your equipage to reach Mont Saint 
 Victoire, which is seven miles from. Aix.'' 
 
 Arthur intimated that he had a guide and horses in attend- 
 ance) and begged permission to take' his adieu. The worthy 
 seneschal, his fair round belly graqed with a gold chain, accom- 
 panied him to the gate with a step, which a gentle fit of the 
 gout had rendered uncertain, but which, he assured Arthur, 
 would vanish before three days' use of the hot springs. Thie- 
 bault ajppeared before the gate, not w'ith the tired steeds from 
 which they had dismounted an hour since, but with fresh pal- 
 freys from the stable of the King. 
 
 " They are yours fror.i the moment you have put foot in 
 stirrup," said the sene?chal ; " the good King Rend never 
 received back as his property a horse which he had lent to a 
 guest ; and that is perhaps one reason why his Highness and 
 we of his household must walk often a-foot." 
 
 Here the seneschal exchanged greetings with his young 
 visitor, who rode forth to seek Queen Margaret's place of 
 temporary retirement at the celebrated monastery of Saint 
 Victoire. He demanded .of his guide in which direction it lay, 
 who pointed, with an air of triumph, to a mountain three 
 thousand feet and upward in height, which arose, at five or six 
 miles' distance from the town, and which its bold and rocky 
 summit rendered the most distinguished object of the landscape. 
 Thiebault spoke of it with unusual glee arid energy, so much so 
 as to lead Arthur to conceive that his trusty squire had not 
 neglected to avail himself of the lavish hospitality of Le bon Roi 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 35 1 
 
 Refi^. Thiebault, however, continued to expatiate on the famb 
 of the ipountain and monastery. They derived their name, he 
 said, from a great victory which was gained by a Roman general, 
 named Caio Mario, against two large armies of Saracens with 
 ultramontane names (the Teutones probably and Cimbri), in 
 gratitude to heaven for which victory Caio Mario vowed to 
 build a monastery on the mountain for the service of the Virgin 
 Mary, in honor of whom he had been baptized. With all the 
 importance of a local connoisseur, Thiebault proceeded to prove 
 his general assertion by specific facts. 
 
 " Yonder," he said, " was the camp of the Saracens, from 
 which, when the battle was ajDparently decided, their wives and 
 women rushed, with horrible screams, disheveled hair, and the 
 gestures of furies, and for a time prevailed in stopping the flight 
 of the men." He pointed out too the river, for access to which, 
 cutoff by the superior generalship of the Romans, the barbari- 
 ans, whom he called Saracens, hazarded the action, and whose 
 streams ihey empurpled with their blood. . In short, he men- 
 tioned many circumstances which showed how accurately tradi- 
 tion will preserve the particulars of ancient events, 6ven 
 whilst forgetting, misstating, and confounding dates and persons. 
 
 Perceiving that Arthur lent hira a not unwilling ear,' — for it 
 may be supposed that the education of a youth bred up in the 
 heat of civil wars was not well qualified to criticise his account 
 of the wars of a distant period,- — the Provencal, when he had 
 exhausted this topic, drew up close to his master's side, and 
 asked, in a suppressed tone, whether he knew, or was desirous 
 of being made acquainted with, the cause of Margaret's having 
 left Aix, to establish herself in the monastery of Saint Victoire ? 
 
 " For the accomplishment of a vow," answered Arthur ; " all 
 the world knows it." 
 
 " All Aix knows the contrary," said Thiebault ; " and I can 
 tell you the truth, so I were sure it would not offend your 
 seignorie." 
 
 " The truth can offend no reasonable man, so it be expressed 
 in the terms of which Queen Margaret must be spoken in the 
 presence of an Englishman." 
 
 Thus replied Arthur, willing to receive what information he 
 could gather, and desirous, at the same time, to check the 
 petulance of his attendant. 
 
 " I have nothing," replied his follower, " to state in disparage- 
 ment of the gracious Queen, whose only misfortune is, that, like 
 her royal father, she has more titles than towns. Besides, I 
 know well that you Englishmen, though you speak wildly of 
 
352 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 your sovereigns yourselves, wiU not permit others to fail in 
 respect to them." 
 
 " Say on, then," answered Arthur. 
 
 " Your seignorie must know, then," said Thipbault, " that 
 the good King Ren^ has been much disturbed by the deep 
 melancholy which afflicted Queen Margaret, and has bent 
 himself with all his power to change it into a gayer humor. 
 He made entertainments in public and in private ; he assembled 
 minstrels and troubadours, whose music and poetry might have 
 drawn smiles from one on his deathbed. The whole country 
 resounded with mirth and glee, and the gracious Queen could 
 not stir abroad in the most private manner, but before she had 
 gone a hundred paces, she lighted on an ambush, consisting of 
 some pretty pageant, or festivous mummery, composed often 
 by the good King himself, which interrupted her solitude, in 
 purpose of relieving her heavy thoughts with some pleasant 
 pastime. But the Queen's deep melancholy rejected all these 
 modes of dispelling it, and at length she confined herself to her 
 own apartments, and absolutely refused to see even her royal 
 f afaer, because he generally brought into her presence those whose 
 productions he thought likely to soothe her sorrow. Indeed 
 she seemed to hear the harpers with loathing, and, excepting 
 one wandering Englishman, who sang a rude and melancholy 
 ballad, which threw her into a flood of tears, and to whom she 
 gave a chain of price, she never seemed to look at or be 
 conscious of the presence of anyone. And at length, as I have 
 had the honor to tell your seignorie, she refused to see even 
 her royal father unless he came alone ; and that he found no 
 heart to do." 
 
 " I wonder nC^^ at it," said the young man ; " by the White 
 Swan, I am rather surprised his mummery drove her not to 
 frenzy." 
 
 " Something like it indeed took place," said Thiebault ; " and 
 I will tell your seignorie how it chanced. You must know that 
 good King Rend, unwilling to abandon his daughter to the foul 
 fiend of melancholy, bethought him of making a grand effort. 
 You must know further, that the King, powerful in all the craft 
 of Troubadours and Jongleurs, is held in peculiar esteem for con- 
 ducting mysteries, and other of these gamesome and delightful 
 sports and processions, with which our holy Church permits her 
 graver ceremonies to be relieved and diversified, to the cheering 
 of the hearts of all tftie children of religion. It is admitted 
 that no one has ever been able to approach his excellence in the 
 arrangement of the F6te-Dieu ; and the tune to which the devils 
 cudgel King Herod, to the great edification of all Christian 
 
ANNE OP GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 3S3 
 
 spectators, is of our good King's royal composition. He hath 
 danced at Tfarascon in the ballet of Saint Martha and the 
 Dragon, and was accounted in his own person the only actor 
 competent to present the Tarrasque. His Highness introduced 
 also a new ritual into the consecration of the Boy Bishop, and 
 composed an entire set of grotesque music for the Festival of 
 Asses. In short, his Grace's strength lies in those pleasing and 
 becoming festivities which strew the path of edification with 
 fiowers, and send men dancing and singing on their way to 
 Heaven. 
 
 " Now the go&d King Ren(^, feeling his own genius for such 
 recreative compositions, resolved to exert it to the utmost, in the 
 hope that he might tliereby relieve the mela'ncholy in which his 
 daughter was plunged, and which infected all that approached 
 her. It chanced, some short time since, that the Queen was 
 absent for certain days, I know not where or on what business, 
 but it gave the good King time to make his preparations. So 
 when his daughter returned, he with much importunity pre- 
 vailed on her to make part of a religious procession to Saint 
 Sauveur, the principal church in Aix. The Queen, innocent of 
 what was intended, decked herself with solemnity, to witness 
 and partake of what she expected would prove a work of grave 
 piety. But no sooner had she appeared on the esplanade in 
 front of the palace, than more than a hundred masks, dressed 
 up like Turks, Jews, Saracens, Moors, and 1 know not whom 
 besides, crowded around to offer her their homage, in the char- 
 acter of the Queen of Sheba; and a grotesque piece of music 
 called them to arrange themselves for a ludicrous ballet, in 
 which they addressed the Queen in the most entertaining man- 
 lier, and with the most extravagant gestures. The Queen, 
 stunned with the noise, and affronted with the petulance of this 
 unexpected onset, would have gone back into the palace ; but 
 the doors had been shut by the King's order so soon as she set 
 forth ; and her retreat in that direction was cut off. Finding 
 herself excluded from the palace, the Queen advanced to the 
 front of the fagade, and endeavored by signs and words to 
 appease the hubbub, but the maskers, who had their instruc- 
 tions,'' only answered with songs, music, and shouts." 
 
 " I would," said Arthur, " there had been a score of English 
 yeomen in presence, with their quarter-staves, to teach the 
 bawling villains respect for one that has worn the crown of 
 England ! " 
 
 " All the noise that was made before was silence and soft 
 iriusiq," continued Thiebault, " till that when the good King 
 
2^4 ApTNE of CEIERSTEIN. 
 
 himself appeared, grotesquely dressed in the character of King 
 Solomon " 
 
 " To whom, of all princes, he has the least resemblance," 
 said Arthur 
 
 " With such capers and gesticulations of welcome to the 
 Queen of Sheba, as, I am assured by those who saw it, would 
 have brought a dead man alive again, or killed a living man 
 with laughing. Among other properties, he had in his hand a 
 truncheon, somewhat formed like a fool's bauble" 
 
 " A most fit sceptre for such a sovereign," said Arthur 
 
 " Which was headed," continued Thiebault, " by a model of 
 the Jewish Temple, finely gilded and curiously cut in paste- 
 bpard. He managed this with the utmost grace, and delighted 
 every spectator by his gayety and activity, excepting the Queen, 
 who, the more he skipped and capered, seemed to be the more 
 incensed, until, on his approaching her to conduct her to the 
 procession, she seemed roused to a sort of frenzy, struck the 
 truncheon out of his hand, and breaking through the crowd, 
 who felt as if a tigress had leaped amongst them from a show- 
 man's cart, rushed into the royal courtyard. Ere the order of 
 the scenic representation, which her violence had interrupted, 
 could be restored, the Queen again issued forth, mounted, and 
 attended by two or three English cavaliers of her Majesty's 
 suite. She forced her way through the crowd, without regard- 
 ing either their safety or her own, flew, like a hail-storm along 
 the streets, and never drew bridle till she was as far up this 
 same Mont Saint Victoire as the road would permit. She was 
 then received into the convent, and has since remained there; 
 and a vow of penance is the pretext to cover over the quarrel 
 betwixt her and her father." 
 
 " How long may it be," said Arthur, " since these things 
 chanced?" 
 
 " it is but three days since Queen Margaret left Aix in the 
 manner I have told you. — But we are come as far up the 
 mountain as men usually ride. See, yonder is the monastery 
 rising betwixt two huge rocks, which form the very top of 
 Mont Saint Victoire. There is no more open ground than is 
 afforded by the cleft, into which the convent of Saint Mary of 
 Victory is, as it were, niched ; and the access is guarded bv the 
 most dangerous precipices. To ascend the mountain, you must 
 keep that narrow path which, winding and turning among the 
 cliffs, leads at length to the summit of the hill, and the gate of 
 tbe monastery." 
 
 "And what becomes of you and the horses?" said Arthur. 
 
 "We will rest," said Thiebault, "in the hospital maintained 
 
ANNE OF CEIERSTEIN. 
 
 3SS 
 
 by the good fathers at the bottom of the mountain, for the 
 accommodation of those who attend on pilgrims ; — for I 
 promise you the shrine is visited by many who come from afar, 
 and are attended both by man and horse. — Care not for me, — 
 I shall be first under cover ; but there muster yonder in the 
 west some threatening clouds, from which your seignorie may 
 suffer inconvenience, unless you reach the convent in time. I 
 will give you an hour to do the feat, and will say you are as 
 active as a chamois hunter, if you reach it within the time." 
 
 Arthur looked around him, and did indeed remark a muster- 
 ing of clouds in the distant west, which threatened soon to 
 change the character of the day, which had hitherto been 
 brilliantly clear, and so serene that the falling of a leaf might 
 have been heard. He therefore turned him to the steep and 
 rocky path which ascended the mountain, sometimes by scaling 
 • almost precipitous rocks, and sometimes by reaching their tops 
 by a more circuitous process. It winded through' thickets of 
 wild boxwood and other low aromatic shrubs, which afforded 
 some pasture for the mountain goats, but were a bitter annoy- 
 ance to the traveler who had to press through them. Such 
 obstacles were so frequent, that the full hour allowed by Thie- 
 bault had elapsed before he stood on the summit of Mont 
 Saint Victoire, and in front of the singular convent of the same 
 name. 
 
 We have already said, that the crest of the mountain, con- 
 sisting entirely of one bare and solid rock, was divided by a 
 cleft or opening into tv/o heads or peaks, between which the 
 convent was built, occupying all the space between them. The 
 front of the building was of the most ancient and sombre cast 
 of the old Gothic, or rather, as it has been termed, the Saxon ; 
 and in that respect corresponded with the savage exterior of 
 the naked cliffs, of which the structure seemed to make a part, 
 and, by which it was entirely surrounded, excepting a small open^ 
 space of more level ground, where, at the expense of much toil, 
 and by carrj'ing earth up the hill, from different spots where they 
 could collect it in small quantities, the good fathers had been 
 able to arrange the accommodations of a garden. 
 
 A bell summoned a lay-brother, the porter of this singularly 
 situated monastery, to whom Arthur announced himself as an 
 English merchant, Philipson by name, who came to pay his 
 duty to Queen Margaret. The porter, with much respect, 
 showed the stranger into the convent, and ushered him into a 
 parlor, which, looking toward Aix, commanded an extensive 
 and splendid prospect over the southern and western parts of 
 Provence. This was the direction in which Arthur had ap- 
 
356 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 proached the mountain from Aix ; tut the circuitous path by 
 which he had ascended had completely carried him round the 
 hill. The western side of the monastery, to which the parlor 
 looked, commanded the noble view we have mentioned ; and a 
 species of balcony, which, connecting the two twin crags, at 
 this place not above four or five yards asunder, ran along the 
 front of the building, and appeared to be constructed for the 
 purpose of enjoying it. But on stepping from one of the win- 
 dows of the parlor upon this battlemented bartisan, Arthur 
 became aware that the wall on which the parapet rested stretch- 
 ed along the edge of a precipice, which sank sheer down five 
 hundred feet at least from the foundations of the convent. Sur- 
 prised and startled at finding himself on so giddy a verge, Arthur 
 turned his eyes from the gulf beneath him to admire the dis- 
 tant landscape, partly illumined, with ominous lustre, by the 
 now westerly sun. The setting beams showed in dark red' 
 splendor a vast variety of hill and dale, champaign and culti- 
 vated ground, with towns, churches, and castles, some of which 
 rose from among trees, while others seemed founded on rocky 
 eminences ; others again lurked by the side of streams or lakes, 
 to which the heat and drought of the climate naturally attracted 
 them. 
 
 The rest of the landscape presented similar objects when the 
 weather was serene, but they were not rendered indistinct, or 
 altogether obliterated, by the sullen shade of the approaching 
 cloiids, which gradually spread over great part of the horizon, 
 and threatened altogether to eclipse the sun, though the lord 
 of the horizon still struggled to maintain his influence, and, 
 like a dying hero, seemed most glorious even in the moment of 
 defeat. Wild sounds, like groans and howls, formed by the 
 wind in the numerous caverns of the rocky mountain, added to 
 the terrorsbf the scene, and seemed to foretell the fury of some 
 distant storm, though the air in general was even unnaturally 
 calm and breathless. In gazing on this extraordinary scene, 
 Arthur did justice to the monks who had chosen this* wild and 
 grotesque situation, from which they could witness Nature in 
 her wildest and grandest demonstrations, and compare the 
 nothingness of humanity with her awful convulsions. 
 
 So much was Arthur awed by the scene before him, that he 
 had almost forgotten, while gazing from the bartisan, the im- 
 portant business which had brought him to this place, when it 
 was suddenly recalled by finding himself in the presence of 
 Margaret of Anjou, who, not seeing him in the parlor of 
 reception, had stepped upon the balcony, that she might meet 
 with him the sooner. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 357 
 
 TV.e Queen's dress was black, without any ornament except 
 agolii coronal of an inch in breadth, restraining her long black 
 tres»es, of which advancing years, and misfortunes, had partly 
 alts ed the hue. There was placed within the circlet a black 
 plu( le with a red rose, the last of the season which the good 
 fatV,er who kept the garden had presented to her that morning 
 as the badge, of her husband's house. Care, fatigue, and sor- 
 row, seemed to dwell on her brow and her features. To another 
 messenger, she would in all probability have administered a 
 sharp rebuke, for not being alert in his duty to receive her as 
 she entered; but Arthur's age arid appearance corresponded 
 with that of her loved and lost son. He was the son of a lady 
 whom Margaret had loved with almost sisterly affection, and 
 the presence of Arthur continued to excite in the dethroned 
 Queeri the same feelings of maternal tenderness which had been 
 awakened on their first meeting in the Cathedral of Strassburg. 
 She raised him as he kneeled at her feet, spoke to him with 
 much kindness, and encouraged him to detail at full length 
 his father's message, and such other news as his brief residence 
 at Dijon had made him acquainted with. 
 
 She demanded which way Duke Charles had moved with his 
 army. 
 
 " As I was given to understand bythe master of his artillery," 
 said Arthur, " toward the Lake of Neufchatel, on which side 
 he proposes his first attack on the Swiss." 
 
 "The headstrong fool ! " said .Queen Margaret, — " he re- 
 sembles the poor lunatic, who went to the summit of the moun- 
 tain, that he might meet the rain half-way. — Does thy father, 
 then," continued Margaret, " advise me to give up the last 
 remains of the extensive territories, once the dominions of our 
 royal House, and for some thousand crowns, and the paltry 
 aid of a few hundred lances, to relinquish what is left of our 
 patrimony to our proud and selfish kinsman of Burgundy, who 
 extends his claim to our all, and affords so little help, or even 
 promise of help, in return ? " 
 
 " I should have ill discharged my father's commission," said 
 Arthur, " if I had left your Highness to think that he recom- 
 mend^ so great a sacrfice. He feels most deeply the Duke of 
 Burgundy's grasping desire of dominion. Nevertheless, he 
 thinks that I^rovence must, on King Rent's death, or sooner, 
 fall either to the share of Duke Charles, or to Louis of France, 
 whatever opposition your Highness may make to such a desti- 
 nation ;, and it may be that my father, as a knight and a 
 soldier, hopes much from obtaining the means to make another 
 
358 ANNE OF GE/ESSyTEIN. 
 
 attempt on Britain. But the decision must rest with your 
 Highness." 
 
 " Young man," said the Queen, " the contemplation of a 
 question so doubtful almost deprives me of reason ! " 
 
 As she spoke, she sank down, as one who needs rest, on a 
 stone seat placed on the very verge of the balcony,^regardless 
 of the storm, which now began to rise with dreadful gusts of 
 wind, the course of which being intermitted and altered by the 
 crags round which they howled, it seemed as if in very deed 
 Boreas, and Eurus, and Caurus, unchaning the winds from 
 every quarter of heaven, were contending for masteiy round 
 the convent of our Lady of Victory. Amid this tumult, and 
 amid billows of mist which concealed the bottom of the preci- 
 pice, and masses of clouds which racked fearfully over their 
 heads, the roar of the descending waters rather resembled the 
 fall of cataracts than the rushing of torrents of rain. The seat 
 on which Margaret had placed herself was in a considerable 
 degree sheltered from the storm, but its eddies, varying in 
 every direction, often tossed aloft her disheveled hair ; and we 
 cannot describe the appeai-ance of her noble and beautiful, yet 
 ghastly and wasted features, agitated strongly by anxious hesita- 
 tion and conflicting thoughts, unless to those of our readers, who 
 have had the advantage of having seen our inimitable Siddons * 
 in such a character as this. Arthur, confounded by anxiety atid 
 terror, could only beseech her Majesty to retire before the fury 
 of the approaching storm, into the interior of the convent. 
 
 " No," she replied with firmness ; " roofs and walls have ears, 
 and monks, though they have forsworn the world, are not the 
 less curious to know what passes beyond their cells. It is in 
 this place you must hear what I have to say ; as a soldier you 
 should scorn a blast of wind or a shower of rain ; and to me, 
 who have often held counsel amidst the sound of trumpets and 
 clash of arms, prompt for instant fight, the war of elements is 
 an unnoticed trifle. I tell thee, young Arthur Vere, as I would 
 to your father — as I would to my son — if indeed Heaven had 
 left such a blessing to a wretch forlorn " 
 
 She paused, and then proceeded. \ 
 
 " I tell thee, as I would have told my beloved Edwatd, that 
 Margaret, whose resolutions were once firm and immovable as 
 these rocks among which we are placed, is now doubtful and 
 variable as the clouds which are drifting around us. I told 
 your father, in the joy of meeting once more a subject of such 
 inappreciable loyalty, of the sacrifices I would make to assure 
 
 * [Mrs, Siddons the tragedian— died 1831.] 
 
ANNE OP GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 359 
 
 the assistance of Charles of Burgundy to so gallant an under- 
 taking as that proposed to him by the faithful Oxford. But 
 since I saw liim I have had cause of deep reflection. I met my 
 aged father only to offend, and, I say it with shame, to insult 
 the old man in presence of his people. Our tempers are as op- 
 posed as the sunshine, which a short space since gilded a serene 
 and beautiful landscape, differs from the tempests which are 
 now wasting it. I spurned with open scorn an^ contempt what 
 he, in his mistaken affection, had devised for means of consola- 
 tion, and, disgusted with the idle follies which he had devised 
 for curing the melancholy of a dethroned Queen, a widowed 
 spouse — and alas! a childless mother, — I retired hither from 
 the noisy and idle mirth, which was the bitterest aggravation 
 of my sorrows. Such and so gentle is Rend's temper, that even 
 my unfilial conduct will not diminish my influence over him ; 
 and if your father had announced, that the Duke of Burgundy, 
 like a knight and a sovereign, had cordially and nobly en- 
 tered into the plan of the faithful Oxford, I could have found it 
 in my heart to obtain the cession of territory his cold and am- 
 bitious policy requires, in order to ensure the assistance, ■I'lhich 
 he now postpones to afford till he has gratified his own haughty 
 humor by settling needless quarrels with his unoffending neigh- 
 bors. Since I have been here, and calmness and solitude have 
 given me time to reflect, I have thought on the offences I have 
 given the old man, and on the wrongs I was about to do him. 
 My father, let me do him justice, is also the father of his people. 
 They have dwelt under their vines and fig-trees, in ignoble ease 
 perhaps, but free from oppression and exaction, and their hap- 
 piness has been that of their good King. Must I change all 
 this.' — Must I aid in turning over these contented people to a 
 fierce, headlong, arbitrary prince ? — May I not break even the 
 easy and thoughtless heart of my poor old father, should I 
 succeed in urging him to do so 1 — These are questions which I 
 shudder even to ask myself. On the other hand, to disappoint 
 the toils, the venturous hopes of your father, to forego the only 
 opportunity which may ever again offer itself, of revenge on the 
 bloody traitors of York, and restoration of the House of Lan- 
 caster! — Arthur, the scene around us is not so convulsed by 
 the fearful tempest and the driving clouds, as my mind is by 
 doubt and uncertainty." 
 
 " Alas ! " replied Arthur, " I am too young and inexperienced 
 to be your Majesty's adviser in a caste so arduous. I would my 
 father had been in presence himself." 
 
 "I know what he would' have said," replied the Queen ; 
 "but, knowing all, I despair of aid from human counselors — I 
 
360 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 have sought others, but they also are deaf to my entreaties. 
 Yes, Arthur, Margaret's misfortunes have rendered her super-' 
 stitious. Know, that beneath these rocks, and under the foun- 
 dation of this convent, there runs a cavern, entering by a secret 
 and defended passage a little to the westward of the summit, 
 and running through the mountain, having an opening to the 
 south, from which, as from this bartisan, you can view the land- 
 scape so lately seen from the balcony, or the strife of winds 
 and confusion of clouds which we now behold. In the middle 
 of this cavernous thoroughfare is a natural pit, or perforation, 
 of great but unknown depth. A stone dropped into it is heard 
 to dash from side to side, until the noise of its descent, thunder- 
 ing from cliff to cliff, dies away in distant and faint tinkling, 
 less loud than that of a sheep's bell at a mile's distance. The 
 common people, in their jargon, call this fearful gulf Lou Gar- 
 agoule ; and the traditions of .the monastery annex wild and 
 fearful recollections to a place in itself sufficiently terrible. 
 Oracles, it is said, spoke from thence-in pagan days by subter- 
 ranean voices, arising from the abyss; and from these the 
 Roman general is said to have heard, in strange and uncouth 
 rhymes, promises of the victory which gives name to this moun- 
 tain. These oracles, it is averred, may be yet consulted after 
 performance of strange rites, in which heathen ceremonies are 
 mixed with Christian acts of devotion. The abbots of Mont 
 Saint Victoire have denounced the consultation of Lou Gara- 
 goule, and the spirits who reside there, to be criminal. But as 
 the sin may be expiated by presents to the Church, by masses, 
 and penances, the door is sometimes open by the complaisant 
 fathers to those whose daring curiosity leads them, at all risks, 
 and by whatever means, to search into futtirity. Arthur, I 
 have made the experiment, and am even now returned from the 
 gloomy cavern in which, according to the traditiorial ritual, I 
 have spent six hours by the margin of the gulf, a place so dis- 
 mal, that after its horrors even this tempestuous scene is re- 
 freshing." 
 
 The Queen stopped, and Arthur, the more struck with the 
 wild tale, that it reminded him of his place of imprisonment at 
 La Ferette, asked anxiously if her inquiries had obtained any 
 answer. 
 
 " None whatever," replied the unhappy princess. " The 
 demons of Garagbule, if there be such, are deaf to the suit of 
 an unfortunate wretch like me, to whom neither friends nor 
 fiends will afford counsel or assistance. It is my father's cir- 
 cumstances which prevent my instant and strong resolution. 
 Were my own claims on this piping and paltry notion of Trouba« 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 361 
 
 dours alone interested, I could, for the chance df once more 
 setting my foot in merry England, as easily and willingly re- 
 sign them and their paltry coronet, as I commit to the storm this 
 idle emblem of the royal rank which I have lo?t." 
 
 As Margaret spoke, she tore from her hair the sable feather 
 and rose which the tempest had detached from the circlet i.i 
 which they were placed, and tossed them from the battlement 
 with a gesture of wild energy. They were instantly whirled of" 
 in a bickering eddy of the agitated clouds, which swept the 
 feather far distant into empty space, through which the 
 eye could not pursue it. But while that of Arthur involuntaril.- 
 strove to follow its course, a contrary gust of wind caught flv, 
 red rose, and drove it back against his breast, so that it wa:; 
 easy for him to catch hold of and retain it. 
 
 "Joy, joy, and good fortune, royal mistress ! " he said, re- 
 turning to her the emblematic flower! "the tempest brin^J 
 back the badge of Lancaster to its proper owner." 
 
 "I accept the omen," said Margaret; "but it concern.i 
 yourself, noble youth, and not me. The feather which is borna 
 away to waste and desolation is Margaret's emblem. My eyes 
 will never see the restoration of the line of Lancaster. But yon 
 will live to behold it, and to aid to achieve.it, and to dye our red 
 rose deeper yet in the blood of tyrants and traitors. My thoughts 
 are so strangely poised, that a feather or a flower may turn th? 
 scale. But my head is still giddy, and my heart sick. — To- ' 
 morrow you shall see another Margaret, and till then adieu." 
 
 It was time to retire, for the tempest began to be mingle;! 
 with fiercer showers of rain. When they re-entered the par- 
 lor, the Queen clapped her hands, and two female attendant.; 
 entered. 
 
 "Let the Father Abbot know," she said, "that it is ov: 
 desire that this young gentleman receive for this night sue': 
 hospitality as befits an esteemed friend of ours. — Till to-mo:- 
 row, young sir, farewell." 
 
 With a countenance which betrayed not the late emotion 
 of her mind, and with a stately courtesy that would have be- 
 come her when she graced the halls of Windsor, she extender! 
 her hand, which the youth saluted respectfully. After her lea- - 
 ing the parlor the Abbot entered, and in his attention n 
 Arthur's entertainment and accommodation for the evening, 
 showed his anxiety to meet and obey Queen Margaret's 
 wishes. 
 
362 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 CHAPTER THIRTY-FIRST. 
 
 Want you a man 
 
 Experienced in the world and its affairs ? 
 Here lie is for your purpose. He's a monk. 
 He hath forsworn the world and all its work, 
 The rather that he knows it passing well, 
 Special the worst of it, for he's monk. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 While the dawn of the morning was yet gray, Arthur was 
 awakened by a loud ringing at the gate of the monastery, and 
 presently afterward the porter entered the cell which had been 
 allotted to him for his lodgings, to tell him, that if his name 
 was Arthur Philipson, a brother of their order had brought him 
 despatches from his father. The youth started up, hastily at- 
 tired himself, and was introduced, in the parlor, to a Carmelite 
 monk, being of the same order with the community of Saint 
 Victoire. 
 
 "I have ridden many a mile, young man, to present you 
 with this letter," said the monk, " having undertaken to your 
 father that it should be delivered without delay. I came to 
 Aix last night during the storm, and, learning it the palace 
 that you had ridden hither, I mounted as soon as the tempest 
 abated, and here I am." 
 
 "I am beholden to you, father," said the youth, "and 
 if I could repay your pains with a small donative to your con- 
 vent " 
 
 " By no means," answered the good father ; " I took my 
 personal trouble out of friendship to your father, and mine own 
 errand led me this way. The expenses of my long journey 
 have been amply provided for. But open your packet, I carl 
 answer your questions at leisure." 
 
 The young man accordingly stepped into an embrasure of 
 the window, and read as follows : — 
 
 " Son Arthur — Touching the state of the country, in so 
 far as concerns the safety of traveling, know that the same is 
 precarious. The Duke hath taken the towns of Brie and 
 Granson, and put to death five hundred men, whom he made 
 prisoners in garrison there. But the Confederates are ap- 
 proaching with a large force, and God will judge for the right. 
 Howsoever the game may go, these are sharp wars, in which 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 363 
 
 little quarter is spoken of on either side, and therefore there is 
 no safety for men of our profession, till something decisive fehall 
 happen. In the meantime, yon may assure the widowed lady 
 that our correspondent continues well disposed to purchase the 
 property which she has in hand ; but will scarce be able to pay 
 the price till his present pressing affairs shall be settled, which 
 I hope will be in time to permit us to embark the funds in the 
 profitable adventure I told our friend of. I have employed a 
 friar, traveling to Provence, to carry this letter, which 'I trust 
 will come safe. The bearer may be trusted. 
 
 " Your affectionate father, 
 
 John Philipson." 
 
 Arthur easily comprehended the latter part of the epistle, 
 and rejoiced he had received it at so critical a moment. He 
 questioned the Carmelite on the amount of the Duke's army, 
 which the monk stated to amount to sixty thousand men, while 
 he said the Confederates, though making every exertion, had 
 not yet been able to assemble the third part of that number.. 
 The young Ferrand de Vaudemont was with their army, and 
 ' had received, it was thought, some secret assistance from 
 France ; but as he was little known in arms, and had few fol- 
 lowers, the empty title of General which he bore added little to 
 the strength of the Confederates. Upon the whole, he reported 
 that every chance appeared to be in favor of Charles, and 
 Arthur, who looked upon his success as presenting the only 
 chance in favor of his father's enterprise, was not a little 
 pleased to find it ensured, as far as depended on a great 
 superiority of force. He had no leisure to make further in- 
 quiries, for the Queen at that moment entered the apartment, 
 and the Carmelite, learning her quality, withdrew from her pres- 
 ence in deep reverence. 
 
 The paleness of her complexion still bespoke the fatigues 
 of the day preceding; but as she graciously bestowed on 
 Arthur the greetings of the morning, her voice was firm, her 
 eye clear, and her countenance steady. " I meet you," she 
 said, " not as I left you, but determined in my purpose. I am 
 satisfied that if Rend does not voluntarily yield up his throne of 
 Provence, by some step like that which we propose, he will be 
 hurled from it by violence, in which, it may be, his life will not 
 be spared. We will, therefore, to work'wfth all speed — the worst 
 is, that I cannot leave this convent till I have made the neces- 
 sary penances for having visited the Garagoule, without perform- 
 ing which I were no Christian woman. When you return to 
 Aix. innuire at the nalace for.mv secretary, with whom this line 
 
364 ANNE OF GEIERSTEJN. 
 
 I 
 will give you credence. I have, even before this door of hope 
 opened to me, endeavored to form an estimate of King Rent's 
 situation, and collected the documents for that purpose. Tell 
 him to send to me, duly sealed, and under fitting charge, the 
 small cabinet hooped with silver. Hours of penance for past 
 errors may be employed to prevent others ; and from the con- 
 tents of that cabinet I shall learn whether I am, in this weighty 
 matter, sacrificing my father's interests to my own half-desper- 
 ate hopes. But of this I have little or no noubt. I can cause 
 the deeds of resignation and transference to be drawn up here 
 under my own direction, and arrange the execution of them 
 when I return to Aix, which shall be the first moment after my 
 penance is concluded." 
 
 "And this letter, gracious madam," said Arthur, "will inform 
 you what events are, approaching, and of what importance it may 
 be to take time by the forelock. Place me but in possession of 
 these momentous deeds, and I will travel night and day till I 
 reach the Duke's camp. I shall find him most likely in the 
 moment of victory, and with his heart too much open to refuse 
 a boon to the royal kinswoman who is surrendering to him all. 
 We will — we must — in such an hour, obtain princely succors ; 
 and we shall sopn see if the licentious Edward of York, the sav- 
 age Richard, the treacherous and perjured Clarence, are here- 
 after to be lords of merry England, or whether they must give 
 place to a more rightful sovereign and better man. But oh ! 
 royal madam, all depends on haste." 
 
 "True — yet a few days may — nay, must — cast the die 
 between Charles and his opponents ; and, ere making so great 
 a surrender, it were as well to be assured that he whom we 
 would propitiate is in capacity to assist us. All the events of a 
 tragic and varied life have led me to see there is no such thing 
 as an inconsiderable enemy. I will make haste, however, 
 trusting in the interim we may have good news from the banks 
 of the lake at Neufchatel." 
 
 " But who shall be employed to draw these most important 
 deeds .? " said the young man. 
 
 Margaret mused ere she replied — "The Father Guardian is 
 complaisant, and I think faithful ; but I would not willingly 
 repose confidence in one of the Provencal monks. Stay, let 
 me think — your father says the Carmelite who brought the 
 letter may be trusted — :he shall do the turn. He is a stranger, 
 and will be silent for a piece of money. Farewell, Arthur de 
 Vere. — You will be treated with all hospitality by my father. 
 If thou dost receive further tidings, thou wilt let me know 
 
ANNE OF CEIERSTEIN. " 365 
 
 them ; or should I have instructions, to send, thou wilt hear 
 from me. — So, benedicite." 
 
 Arthur proceeded to wind down the mountain at a much 
 quicker pace than he had ascended on the day before. The 
 weather was now gloriously serene, and the beauties of vegeta- 
 tion, in a country where it never totally slumbers, were at once 
 delicious and refreshing. His thoughts wandered from the 
 crags of Mont Saint Victoire to the cliff of the canton of 
 I Unterwalden, and fancy recalled the moments when his walks 
 through such scenery were not solitary, but when there was a 
 form by his side, whose simple beauty was engraved on his 
 memory. Such thoughts were of a pre-occupying nature ; and 
 I grieve to say that they entirely drowned the recollection of 
 the mysterious caution given him by his father, intimating that 
 Arthur might not be able to comprehend such letters as he 
 should receive from him, till they were warmed before a fire. 
 
 The first thing which reminded him of this singular caution 
 was the seeing a chafing dish of charcoal in the kitchen of the 
 hostelry at the bottom of the mountain, where he found Thie- 
 bault and his horses." This was the first fire which he had seen 
 since receiving his father's letter, and it reminded him not un- 
 naturally of what the Earl had recommended. Great was his 
 surprise to see that, after exposing the paper to the fire as if 
 to dry it, a word emerged in an important passage of the letter, 
 and the concluding words now read — " The bearer may not be 
 trusted." Well-nigh choked with shame and vexation, Arthur 
 could think of no other remedy than instantly to return to the 
 ^onvent, and acquaint the Queen with this discovery, which he 
 hoped still to convey to her in time to prevent any risk being 
 incurred by the Carmelite's treachery. 
 
 Incensed at himself, and eager to redeem his fault, he bent 
 his manly breast against the steep hill, which was probably 
 never scaled in so short a time as by the young heir of De 
 Vere ; for, within forty minutes from his commencing the 
 ascent, he stood breathless and panting in the presence of 
 Queen Margaret, who was alike surprised at his appearance 
 and his exhausted condition. 
 
 " Trust not the Carmelite ! " he exclaimed — " You are be- 
 trayed, noble Queen, and it is by my negligence. Here is my 
 dagger — Bid me strike it into my heart ! " 
 
 Margaret demanded and obtained a more special explana- 
 tion, and when it was given, she said, " It is an unhappy 
 chance ; but your father's instructions ought to have been more 
 distinct. I have told yonder Carmelite the purpose of the 
 contracts, and engaged with him to draw them. He has but 
 
366 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 nowjeft me to serve at the choir. There is no withdrawing 
 thp confidence I have unhappily placed; but I can easily 
 prevail with the Father Guardian to prevent the monk from 
 leaving the convent till we are indifferent to his secrecy. It is 
 our best chance to secure it, and we will take care that what 
 inconvenience he sustains by his detention shall be well 
 recompensed. Meanwhile, rest thou, good Arthur, and undo 
 the throat of thy mantle. Poor youth, thou art well-nigh ex-"- 
 ha^sted with thy haste." 
 
 Arthur obeyed, and sat down on a seat in the parlor; for 
 the speed which he had exerted rendered him almost incapable 
 of s,tar)ding. 
 
 " If I could but see," he said, " the false m6nk, I would 
 find a way to charm him to secrecy ! " 
 
 " Better leave him to me," said the Queen ; " and, in a word, 
 I fprjaid you to meddle with him. The coif can treat better with 
 the cowl than the casque can do. Say no more of him. I joy 
 to see you wear around your neck the holy relic I bestowed on 
 you ; — but what Moorish charmlet is that you wear beside it ? 
 Alas ! I need not ask. Your heightened color, almost as deep 
 as when you entered a quarter of^ an hour hence, confesses a 
 true-love token. Alas ! poor boy, hast thou not only such a 
 share of thy country's woes to bear, but also thine own load of 
 affliction, not the less poignant now that future time will show 
 thee how fantastic it is ! Margaret of Anjou could once have 
 aicjgd wlierever thy affections were placed ; but now she can 
 only contribute to the misery of her friends, not to their hap- 
 piness. But this lady of the charrn, Arthur, is she fair— is she^ 
 wise and virtuous — is she of noble birth^^and does she love ? " 
 — She perused his countenance with the glance of an eagle, and 
 continued, " To all thou wouldst answer Yes, if shamefacedness 
 peirmitted thee. Love her, then, in turn, my gallant boy, for 
 love is the parent of brave actions. Go, my noble youth — 
 high-born and loyal, valorous and virtuous, enamoured and youth- 
 ful, to what mayest thou not rise ? The chivalry of ancient 
 Europe only lives in a bosom like thine. Go, and let the 
 praises of a Queen fire thy bosom with the love of honor and 
 achievement. In three days we meet at Aix." 
 
 Arthur, highly gratified with the Queen's condescension, 
 once more left her presence. 
 
 Returning dowJ the mountain with a speed very different 
 from that which he had used ih the ascent, he again found his 
 Provencal squire, who had remained in much surprise at wit- 
 nessing the' confusion in which his master had left the inn, 
 alruost immediately after he had entered it without any appar- 
 
ANNE OF GBIERST£IN. 367 
 
 ent haste or agitation. Arthur explained his hasty return by 
 alleging he had forgot his purse at the convent. " Nay, in that 
 case," said Thiebault, " considering what you left and where 
 you left it, I do not wonder at your speed ; though, Our Lady 
 save me, as I never saw living creature, save a goat with a wolf 
 at his heels, make his way over crag and briers with half such 
 rapidity as you did." 
 
 They reached Aix after about an hour's riding, and Arthur 
 lost no time in waiting upon the good King Rend, who gave 
 him a kind reception, both in respect of the letter from the 
 Duke of Burgundy, and in consideration of his being an Eng- 
 lishman, the avowed subject of the unfortunate Margaret. The 
 placable monarch soon forgave his young guest the want of 
 complaisance withwhich he had eschewed to listen to his com- 
 positions ; and Arthur speedily found, that to apologize for his 
 want of breeding in that particular, was likely to lead to a great 
 deal more rehearsing than he could find patience to tolerate. 
 He could only avoid the old King's extreme desire to recite 
 his own poems, and perform his own music, by engaging him in 
 speaking of his daughter Margaret. Arthur had been some- 
 times induced to doubt the influence which the Queen boasted 
 herself to possess over her aged father • but on being ac- 
 quainted with him personally, he became convinced that her 
 powerful understanding and violent passions inspired the feeble- 
 minded and passive King with a mixture of pride, affection, 
 and fear, which united to give- her the most ample authority 
 over him. 
 
 Although she had parted with him but a day or two since, 
 and in a manner so ungracious on her side, Rend was as much 
 overjoyed at hearing of the probability of her speedy return, 
 a,> the fondest father could have been at the prospect of being 
 reunited to the most dutiful child, whom he had not seen for 
 years. The old King was impatient as a boy for the day of her 
 arrival, and, still strangely unenlightened on the difference of 
 her taste from his own,' he was with difficulty induced to lay 
 aside a project of meeting her in the character of old Pale- 
 mon, — 
 
 " The prince of ^epherds, and their pride,'" 
 
 at the head of an Arcadian procession of nymphs and swains, 
 to inspire whose choral dances and songs, every pipe and tam- 
 bourine in the country was to be placed in requisition. Even 
 the old seneschal, however, intimated his disapprobation, of this 
 species of joyeuse entree; so that .Rend suffered himself at 
 length to be persuaded that the Queen was too much occupied 
 
368 ANNn OF GEIERSTBIN. 
 
 by the religious impressions to which she had been of late ex- 
 posed, to receive any agreeable sensation from sights or sounds 
 of levity. The King gave way to reasons which he could not 
 s}mpathize with ; and thus Margaret escaped the shock of wel- 
 come, which would perhaps have driven her in her impatience 
 back to the mountain of Saint Victoire, and the sable cavern 
 of Lou Garagoule. 
 
 During the time of her absence, the days of the court of 
 Provence were employed in sports and rejoicings of every de- 
 scriptidn ; tilting at the barrier with blunted spears, riding at the 
 ring, parties for hare-hunting and falconry, frequented by the 
 youth of both sexes, in the company of whom the King de- 
 lighted, while the evenings were consumed in dancing and 
 music. 
 
 Arthur could not but be sensible, that not long since all 
 this would have made him perfectly happy ; but the last months 
 of his existence had developed his understanding and passions. 
 He was now initiated in the actual business of human life, and 
 looked on its amusements with an air of something like con- 
 tempt ; so that among the young and gay noblesse, who com- 
 posed this merry court, he acquired the title of the youthful 
 philosopher, which was not bestowed upon him, it may be sup- 
 posed, as inferring anything of peculiar compliment. 
 
 On the fourth day news were received, by an express mes- 
 senger, that Queen Margaret would enter Aix before, the hour 
 of noon, to resume her residence in her father's palace. The 
 good King Rend seemed, as it drew nigh, to fear the interview 
 with his daughter as much as he had previoiisly desired it, and 
 contrived to make all around him partake of his fidgety anx- 
 iety. He tormented his steward and cooks to recollect what 
 dishes they had ever observed her to taste of with approbation 
 — he pressed the musicians to remember the tunes Which she 
 approved, and when one of them boldly replied he had never 
 known her Majesty endure any strain with patience, the old 
 monarch threatened to turn him out of his service for slander- 
 ing the taste of his daughter. The banquet was ordered to be 
 served at half-past eleven, as if accelerating it would have had 
 the least effect upon hurrying tke arrival of the expected 
 guests ; and the old King, with his napkin over his arm, trav- 
 ersed the hall from window to window, wear\ing every one with 
 questions, whether they saw anything of the Queen of England. 
 Exactly as the bells tolle'd noon, the Queen, with a very small 
 retinue, chiefly English, and in mourning habits like herself, 
 rode into the town of Aix. King Rend, at the head of his 
 court, failed not to descend from the front of his stately palace,. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 369 
 
 and move along the street to meet his daughter. Lofty, proud, 
 and jealous of incurring ridicule, Margaret was not pleased 
 with this public greeting in the market-place. But she was 
 desirous at present to make amends for her late petulance, and 
 therefore she descended from her palfrey; and although some- 
 thing shocked at seeing Rend equipped with a napkin, she 
 humbled herself to bend the knee to him, asking at once his 
 blessing and forgiveness. 
 
 " Thou hast — thou hast my blessing, my suffering dove," 
 said the simple King to the proudest and most impatient princess 
 that ever wept for a lost crown. — "And for thy pardon, how 
 canst thou ask it, who never didst me an offence since God 
 made me father to so gracious a child ? — Rise, I say, rise — nay, 
 it is for me to ask thy pardon — True, I said in my ignorance, 
 and thought within myself, that my heart had indited a goodly 
 thing — but it vexed thee. It is therefore for me to crave par- 
 don." — And down sank good King Rend upon both knees ; 
 and the people, who are usually captivated with anything re- 
 sembling the trick of the scene, applauded with much noise, 
 and some smothered laughter, a situation in which the royal 
 daughter and her parent seemed about to rehearse the scene of 
 the Roman Charity. 
 
 Margaret, sensitively alive to shame, and fully aware that 
 her present position was sufficiently ludicrous in its publicity at 
 least, signed sharply to Arthur, whom' she saw in the King's 
 suite, to come to her ; and using his arm to rise, she muttered 
 to him aside, and in English, — " To, what saint shall I vow 
 m3'self that 1 may preserve patience when I so much need it ! " 
 
 " For pity's sake, royal madam, recall your firmness of mind 
 and composure," whispered her esquire, who felt at the moment 
 more embarrassed than honored by his distinguished office, for 
 he could feel that the Queen actually trembled with vexation 
 and impatience. 
 
 They at length resumed their route to the palace, the father 
 and daughter arm in arm, a posture most agreeable to Margaret, 
 who could bring herself to endure her father's effusions of ten- 
 derness, and the general tone of his conversation, so that he was 
 not overheard by others. In the same manner, she bore with 
 laudable patience the teasing attentions which he addressed to 
 her at table, noticed some of his particular courtiers, inquired 
 after others, led the way to his favorite subjects of conversation 
 on poetry, painting, and music, till the good King was as much 
 delighted with the unwonted civilities of his daughter, as ever 
 was lover with the favorable confessions of his mistress, when, 
 after years of warm courtship, the ice of her bosom is at length 
 
370 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTETN. 
 
 thawed. It cost the haughty Margaret an effort to bend herself 
 to play this part — her pride rebuked her for stooping to flatter 
 her father's foibles, in order to bring him over to the resignation 
 of his dominions — yet having undertaken to do so, and so much 
 having been already hazarded upon this sole remaining chance 
 of success in an attack upon England, she saw, or was willing 
 to see no alternative. 
 
 Betwixt the banquet, and the ball by which it was to be 
 followed, the Queen sought an opportunity of speaking to 
 Arthur. 
 
 " Bad news, my sage counselor," she said. " The Carmelite 
 never returned to the convent after the service was over. 
 Having learned that you had come back in great haste, he had, 
 I suppose concluded he might stand in suspicion, so he left the 
 convent of Mont Saint Victoire." 
 
 " We must hasten the measures which your Majesty has re- 
 solved to adopt," answered Arthur. 
 
 "I will speak with my father to-morrow. Meanwhile, you 
 must enjoy the pleasures of the evening, for to you they maybe 
 pleasures. — YoUng Lady of Boisgelin, I give you this cavalier 
 to be your j^artner for the evening." 
 
 The black-eyed and pretty Proven^ale courtesied with due 
 decorum, and glanced at the handsome young Englishman with 
 an eye of approbation ; but whether afraid of his character as 
 a philosopher, or his doubtful rank, added the saving clause, — 
 " If my motlier approves." 
 
 " Your mother, damsel, will scarce, I think, disapprove of 
 any partner whom you receive from the hands of Margaret of 
 Anjou. Happy privilege of youth," added with a sigh, as the 
 youthful couple went off to take their place in the bransle* 
 " which can snatch a flower even on the roughest road." 
 
 Arthur acquitted himself so well during the evening, that 
 perhaps the young Countess was only sorry that so gay , and 
 handsome a gallant limited his compliments and attentions 
 within the cold bounds of that courtesy enjoined by the rules 
 of ceremony. * 
 
 * Bransle, in English, brawl— a species of dance. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEJN. 371 
 
 CHAPTER THIRTY-SECOND. 
 
 For I have given here my full consent 
 To undeck the pompous body of a king, 
 Make glory base, and sovereignty a slave. 
 Proud Majesty a subject, state a peasant. 
 
 Richard II. 
 
 The next day opened a grave scene. King Ren^ had not 
 forgotten to arrange the pleasures of the day, when to his horror 
 and discomfiture, Margaret demanded an interview upon seri- 
 ous business. If there was a proposition in the world which 
 Ren^ from his soul detested, it was any that related to the 
 very name of business. 
 
 " What was it that his child wanted ? " he said. " Was it 
 money 1 He would give her whatever ready sums he had, 
 though he owned his exchequer was somewhat bare ; yet he 
 had received his income for the season. It was ten thousand 
 crowns. How much should he desire to be paid to her ? — the 
 half — three parts — or the whole ? All was at her command." 
 
 " Alas, my dear father," said Margaret, it is not my affairs, 
 but your own, on which I desire to speak with you." 
 
 " If the affairs are mine," said Rend, " I am surely master 
 to put them off to another day — to some rainy dull day, fit for 
 no better purpose. See, my love, the hawking party are all on 
 their steeds and ready — the horses are neighiijg and pawing- — 
 the gallants and maidens mounted, and ready with hawk on fist 
 — the spaniels struggling in the leash. It were a sin, with wind 
 and weather to friend, to lose, so lovely a morning." 
 
 " Let them ride their way," said Queen Margaret, " and find 
 their sport; for the matter 1 have to speak concerning involves 
 honor and rank, life and means of living." 
 
 " Nay, but I have to hear and judge between Calezon and 
 John of Acqua Mortis, the two most celebrated Trouba.dours." 
 
 " Postpone their cause till to-morrow," said Margaret, "and 
 dedicate an hour or two to more important affairs." 
 
 "If you are peremptory," replied King Rend, "you are 
 aware, my child, I cannot say you nay." 
 
 And with reluctance he gave orders for the hawkers to go 
 on and follow their sport, as he could not attend them that day. 
 
 The old King then suffered himself, like an unwilling gray- 
 hound withheld from the chase, to be led into a separate apart- 
 ment. To ensure privacy, Margaret stationed her secretary, 
 
372 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Mordaunt, with Arthur, in an antechamber, giving them orders 
 to prevent all intrusion. 
 
 "Nay, for myself, Margaret," said the good-natured old 
 man, " since it must be, I consent to be put au secret ; but why 
 keep old Mordaunt from taking a walk in this beautiful morn- 
 ing ; and why prevent young Arthur from going forth with the 
 rest ? I promise, you, though they term him a philosopher, yet 
 he showed as light a pair of heels last night with the young 
 Countess de Boisgelin, as any gallant in Provence." 
 
 " They are come from a country," said Margaret, " in which 
 men are trained from infancy to prefer their duty to their 
 pleasure." 
 
 The poor King, led into the council-closet, saw, with internal 
 shuddering, the fatal cabinet of ebony, bound with silver, which 
 had never been opened but to overwhelm him with weariness, 
 and dolefully calculated how many yawns he must strangle ere 
 he sustained the consideratiop of its contents. They proved, 
 however, when laid before him, of a kind that excited even his 
 interest, though painfully. 
 
 His daughter presented him with a short and clear view of 
 the debts which were secured on his dominions, and for which 
 they were mortgaged in various pieces and parcels. She then 
 showed him, by another schedule, the large claims of which pay- 
 ment was instantly demanded, to discharge which no funds 
 could be found or assigned. The King defended himself like 
 others in his forlorn situation. To every claim of six, seven, or 
 eight thousand ducats, he replied by the assertion, that he had 
 ten thousand crowns in his chancery, and showed some reluctance 
 to be convinced, till repeatedly urged upon him, that the same 
 sum could not be adequate to the discharge of thirty times the 
 amount. 
 
 "Then," said the King, somewhat impatiently, "why not 
 pay off those who are most pressing, and let the, others wait till 
 receipts come round ? " 
 
 " It is a practice which has been too often resorted to," 
 replied the Queen, " and it is but a part of honesty to pay 
 creditors who have advanced their all in your Grace's service." 
 
 " But are we not," said Ren^, " King of both the Sicilies, 
 Naples, Arragon, and Jerusalem ? And why is the monarch of 
 such fair kingdoms to be pushed to the wall, like a bankrupt 
 yeoman, for a few bags of paltry crowns ? " 
 
 "You are indeed monarch of these kingdoms," said Mar- 
 garet ; " but is it necessary to remind your Majesty that it is 
 but as I am Queen of England, in which I have not an acre of 
 land, and cannot command a penny of revenue ? You have no 
 
ANNE OP GEIEkSTEtN. 
 
 373 
 
 dominions which are a source of revenue, save those which you 
 see in this scroll, with an exact list of the income they afford. 
 It is totally inadequate, you see, to maintain your state arid to 
 pay the large engagements incurred to former creditors." 
 
 " It is cruel to press me to the wall thus," said the poor King. 
 " What can I do .? If I am poor, I cannot help it. I am sure I 
 would pay the debts you talk of, if I knew the way." 
 
 " Royal father, I will show it you. — Resign your useless and 
 unavailing dignity, . which, with the pretensions attending it, 
 serves but to make your miseries ridiculous. Resign your 
 rights as a sovereign, and the income which cannot be stretch- 
 ed out to die empty excesses of a beggarly court, will enable 
 you to enjoy, in ease and opulence, all the pleasures you most 
 delight in as a private baron." 
 
 " Margaret, you speak folly," answered Rend, somewhat 
 sternly, 'f A king and his people are bound by ties which 
 neither can sever without guilt. My subjects are my flock, I 
 am their shepherd. They are assigned to my governance by 
 Heaven, and I dare n6t ren'Otitice the charge of protecting 
 them." 
 
 " Were you in condition to do so," answered the Queen, 
 " Margaret would bid you fight to the death. But don your 
 harness, long disused^ — mount your war-steed^— cry. Rend for 
 Provence I arid see if a h'uridred men will gathei: round your 
 standard. Your fortresses are in the hands of strangers ; 
 army you have none ; your vassals may have good-will, but 
 they lack all military skill and soldier-like discipline. You 
 stand but the mere skeleton of monarchy, which France or 
 Burgundy may ptostrate on the earth, whichever first puts 
 forth his arm to throw it down." 
 
 The tears trickled fast down the old King's cheeks, when 
 this unflattering prospect was set before him, arid he could not 
 forbear owning his total want of power to defend himself, and 
 his dominions, and admitting that he had often thought of the 
 necessity of compounding for his resignation with one of his 
 powerful neighbors. 
 
 " It was thy interest, Margaret, harsh and severe as you are, 
 which prevented my entering, before now, into measures most 
 painful to my feelings, but perhaps best calculated for my 
 advantage. But 1 had hoped it would hold on for my day ; 
 and thou, my child, with the talents Heaven has given thee, 
 wouldst, I thought, have found remedy for distresses, which I 
 cannot escape, otherwise than by shunning the thoughts of 
 them." 
 
 " If it is in earnest you speak of my interest," said Mar- 
 
374 
 
 ANNE OP GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 garet, " know, that your resigning Provence will satisfy the 
 nearest, and almost the only wish that my bosom can form ; 
 but, so judge me Heaven, as it is on your account, gracious 
 sire, as well as mine, that I advise your compliance." 
 
 "Say no more on't, child ; give me the parchment of resig- 
 nation, and I will sign it : I see thou hast it ready drawn ; let 
 us sign it, and then we will overtake the hawkers. We must 
 suffer woe, but there is little need to sit down and weep for it." 
 
 " Do you not ask," said Margaret, surprised at his apathy, 
 " to whom you cede your dominions ? " 
 
 "Whit boots it," answered the King, "since they must be 
 no more my own .' It must be either to Charles of Burgundy, 
 or my nephew Louis — both powerful and politic princes. God 
 send my poor people may have no cause to wish their old man 
 back again, whose only pleasure was to see them happy and 
 mirthful." 
 
 " It is to Burgundy you resign Provence," said Mnrgaret. 
 
 " I would have preferred him," answered Rend ; " he is 
 fierce, but not malignant. One word more — are my subjects' 
 privileges and immunities fully secured ? " 
 
 " Amply," replied the Queen ; " and your own wants of all 
 kinds honorably provided for. I would not leave the stipula- 
 tions in, your favor in blank, though I might perhaps have 
 trusted Charles of Burgundy, where money alone is concerned." 
 
 " I ask not for myself — with my viol and my pencil, Rend 
 the Troubadour will be as happy as ever was Rend the King." 
 
 So saying, with practical philosophy he whistled the burden 
 of his last composed ariette, and signed away the rest of his 
 royal possessions without pulling off his glove, or even- reading 
 the instrument. 
 
 " What is this ? " he said, looking at another and separate 
 parchment of much briefer contents. " Must my kinsman 
 Charles have both the Sicilies, Catalonia, Naples^ ar^d Jeru- 
 salem, as well as the poor remainder of Provence ? Methinks, 
 in decency, some greater extent of parchment should have been 
 allowed to so ample a cession." 
 
 "That deed," said Margaret, "only disowns and relin- 
 quishes all countenance ofFerrand.de Vaudemont's rash attempt 
 on Lorraine, and renounces all quarrel on that account against 
 Charles of Burgundy." 
 
 For once Margaret miscalculated the tractability of her 
 father's temper. , Rend positively started, colored, and stam- 
 mered with passion, as he interrupted her. — " 0«/j/ disown — 
 only relinquish — only renounce the cause of my grandchild, the 
 son of my dear Yojande — his i;igl»tful claims on his mother's 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 37S 
 
 inheritance ! — Margaret, I am ashamed for thee. Thy pride is 
 an excuse for thy evil temper ; but what is pride wbrth which 
 can stoop to commit an act of dishonorable meanness ? To 
 desert, nay disown, my own flesh and blood, because the youth 
 is a bold knight under shield, and dispose"d to battle for his 
 right — I were worthy that harp and horn rung out shame on 
 me, should I listen to thee." 
 
 Margaret was overcome in some measure by the old man's 
 unexpected opposition. She endeavored, however, to show 
 that there was no occasion, in point of honor, why Ren^ should 
 engage in the cause of a wild adventurer, whose right, be it 
 good be it bad, was only upheld by some petty and underhand 
 supplies of money from France, and the countenance of a few 
 of the restless banditti who inhabit the borders of all nations. 
 But ere Rend could answer, voices, raised to an unusual pitch, 
 were heard in the antechamber, the door of which was flung 
 open by an armed knight, covered with dust, who exhibited all 
 the marks of a long journey. 
 
 " Here I am," he said, "father of my mother — behold your 
 grandson — Ferrand de Vaudemont ; the son of your lost Yo- 
 lande kneels at your feet, and implores a blessing on him and 
 his enterprise." 
 
 " Thou hast it," replied Rend, " and may it prosper with 
 thee, gallant youth, image of thy sainted mother — my blessings, 
 my prayers, my hopes, go with you ! " 
 
 " And you, fair aunt of England," said the young knight, 
 addressing Margaret, " you w'ho are yourself dispossessed by 
 traitors, will you not own the cause of a kinsman who is 
 Struggling for his inheritance ? " 
 
 " I wish all good to your person, fair nephew," answered the 
 Queen of England, " although your features are strange to me. 
 But to advise this old man to adopt your, cause, when it is 
 desperate in the eyes of all wise men, were impious madness." 
 
 " Is my cause then so desperate ? " said Ferrand ; " forgive 
 me if I was not aware of it. And does my aunt Margaret say 
 this, whose strength of mind supported Lancaster so long, after 
 the spirits of her warriors had been quelled by defeat t What 
 — forgive me, for my cause must be pleaded — what would you 
 have said had my mother Yolande been capable to advise her 
 father to disown your own Edward, had God permitted him to 
 reach Provence in safety ? " 
 
 " Edward," said Margaret, weeping as she spoke, " was in- 
 capable of desiring his friends to espouse a quarrel that was 
 irremediable. His, too, was a cause for which mighty princes 
 and tjeers laid lance in rest." 
 
376 
 
 ANNE OF GBIERSTEIN. 
 
 " Yet Heaven blessed it not " — said Vaudemont. 
 
 " Thine," continued Margaret, " is but embraced by. the 
 robber nobles of Germany, the upstart burghers of the Rhine 
 cities, the paltry and clownish Confederates of the Cantons." 
 
 " But Heaven has blessed it" replied "Vaudemont, " Know, 
 proud woman, that I come to interrupt your treacherous 
 intrigues ; no petty adventurer, subsisting and maintaining 
 warfare by sleight rather than force, but a conqueror from a 
 bloody field of battle, in which Heaven has tamed the pride of 
 the tyrant of Burgundy." 
 
 " It is fals,e ! " said the Queen, starting ; " I believe it 
 not." ■ _ 
 
 " It is true," said De Vaudemont, " as true as heaven is 
 above us. — It is four days since I left the field of Granson, 
 heaped with Burgundy's mercenaries^ — his wealth, his jewels, 
 his plate, his magnificent decorations, the prize of 'the poor 
 Swiss, who scarce can tell their value. Know you this. Queen 
 Margaret?" continued the young soldier, showing the well- 
 known jewel which decorated the Duke's order pf the Golden 
 Fleece ; " think you not the lion was closely hunted when he 
 left such trophies as these behind him ? "i 
 
 Margaret looked, with dazzled eyes and bewildered thoughts, 
 upon a token wliich confirmed the Duke's defeat, and the 
 extinction of her last hopes. Her father, on the contrary, was 
 struck with the heroism of the young warrior, a quality which, 
 except as it existed in his daughter Margaret, had, he feared, 
 taken leave of his family. Admiring in his heart the youth 
 who exposed himself to danger for the meed of praise, almost 
 as much as he did the poets by whom the warrior's fame 
 is rendered immortal, he hugged his grandson to his bosom, 
 bidding him " gird on his sword in strength," and assuring him, 
 if money could advance his affairs, he, King Rend, could com- 
 mand ten thousand crowns, any part, or the whole of which, was 
 at Ferrand's command ; thus giving proof of what had been 
 said of him, that his head was incapable of containing two ideas 
 at the same time. 
 
 We return to Arthur, who, with the Queen of England's 
 secretary, Mordaunt, had been not a little surprised by the 
 entrance of the Count de Vaudemont, calling himself Duke of 
 Lorraine, into the anteroom, in which they kept a kind of guard, 
 followed by a tall strong Swiss, with a huge halberd over his 
 shoulder. The prince naming himself, Arthur did not think it 
 becoming to oppose his entrance to the presence of his grand- 
 father and aunt, especially as it was obvious that his opposition 
 must have created an affray. In the huge staring halberdier. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 377 
 
 who had sense enough to remain in the anteroom,' Arthur was 
 not a little surprised to recognize Sigismund Biederman, who, 
 after staring wildly at him for a moment, like a dog which 
 suddenly recognizes a favorite, rushed up to the young 
 Englishman with a wild cry of gladness, and in hurried accents 
 told him how happy he was to meet with him, and that he had 
 matters of importance to tell him. It was at no time easy for 
 Sigismund to arrange his ideas, and now they were altogether 
 confused by the triumphant joy which he expressed for the recent 
 victory of his countrymen over the Duke of Burgundy ; and it 
 was with wonder that Arthur heard his confused and rude, btrt 
 faithful tale. 
 
 " Look you. King Arthur, the Duke had come up with his 
 huge army as far as Granson, which is near the outlet of the 
 great lake of Neufchatel. There were five or six' hundred 
 Confederates in the place, and they held it till provisions failed, 
 and then you know they were forced to give it over. But though 
 hunger is hard to bear, they had better have borne it a day or 
 two longer, for the butcher Charles hung them all up by the 
 neck, upon trees round the place,-^and there was no swallowing 
 for them, you know, after such usage as that. Meanwhile all 
 was busy on our hills, and every man that had a sword or lance 
 accoutred himself with it. We met at Neufchatel, and some 
 Germans joined us with the noble Duke of Lorraine. Ah, 
 King Arthur, theVe is a leader ! — we all think him second 
 but to Rudolph of Donnerhugel — you saw him even now — ^it 
 was he that went into that room — and you saw him before, — it 
 is he that was the Blue Knight of Bale ; but we called him 
 Laurenz then, for Rudolph said his presence among us must 
 not be known to our father, and I did not know myself at that 
 time who he really was. Well, when we came to Neufchatel 
 we were a goodly company ; we were fifteen thousand stout 
 Confederates, arid of others, Germans arid Lorraine men, I will 
 warrant you five thousand more. We heard that the Burgun- 
 dian was sixty thousand in the field ; but we heard at the same 
 time that Charles had hung up our brethren like dogs, and the 
 man was not among us — among the Confederates, I mean — 
 who would stay to count heads, when the question was to 
 avenge them. I would you could have heard the roar of fifteen 
 thousand Swiss demanding to be led against the butcher of 
 their brethren ! My father himself, who, you know, is usually 
 so eager for peace, now gave the first voice for battle ; so, in 
 the gray of the morning, we descended the lake toward Gran- 
 son, with tears in our eyes and weapons in our hands, deter- 
 mined to have death or vengeance. We came to a sort of 
 
378 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Strait, between Vauxmoreux and the lake ; there were horse on 
 the level ground between the mountain and the lake ; and a 
 large body of infantry on the side of the hill. The Duke of 
 Lorraine and his followers engaged the horse, while we climbed 
 the hill to dispossess the infantry. It was with us the affair of 
 a moment. Every rnan of us was , at home among the crags, 
 and Charles's men were stuck among them as thou wert, Arthur, 
 when thou didst first come to Geierstein. But there were no 
 kind maidens to lend them their hands to help them down. 
 No, no. — There were pikes, clubs, and halberds, many a one, 
 to dash and thrust them from places where they could hardly 
 Iceep their feet had there been no one to disturb them. So the 
 horsemen, pushed by the Lorrainers, and seeing us upon their 
 flanks, fied as, fast as their horses could carry them. Then we 
 drew together again on a fair field, which is buon campagna, as 
 the Italian says, where the hills retire from the lake. But lo 
 you, we had scarce arrayed our ranks, when we heard such a 
 din and clash of instruments, such a trample of their great 
 horses, such a shouting and crying of men, as if all the soldiers 
 and all the minstrels in France and Germany were striving 
 which should make the loudest noise. Then there was a huge 
 cloud of dust approaching us, and we began to see we must, do 
 or die, for this was Charles and his whole army cohie to support 
 his vanguard. A blast from the mountain dispersed the dust, 
 for they ha,d halted to prepare for battle. Oh, good Arthur ! 
 you would have given ten years of life but to have seen the 
 sight. There were thousands of horse, all in complete array, 
 glancing against the sun, and hundreds of knights with crowns 
 of gold and silver on their helmets, and thick masses of spears 
 on foot, and cannon, as they call them. I did not know what 
 things they were, which they drew on heavily with bullocks, and 
 placed before their army, but I knew more of them before 
 the morning was over. Well, we were ordered to draw up in a 
 hollow square, as we are taught at exercise, and before we 
 pushed forward, we were commanded, as is the godly rule and 
 guise of our warfare, to kneel down and pray to God, Our Lady, 
 and the blessed saints ; and we afterward learned that Charles, 
 in his arrogance,' thought that we asked for mercy. Ha I ha ! 
 ha ! a proper jest. If my father once knelt to him, it was for 
 the sake of Christian blood and godly peace ; but on the field 
 of battle, Arnold Biederman would not have knelt to him and 
 his whole chivalry, though he had stood alone with his sons on 
 that field. Well, but Charles, supposing we asked grace, was 
 determined to show us that we had asked it at a graceless face, 
 for he cried, ' Fire my cannon on the coward slaves ; it is all 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 379 
 
 the mercy they have to expect from me ! ' — Bang — bang-— bang 
 — off went the things I told you of,' like thunder and lightning, 
 and some mischief they did, but the less that we were kneel- 
 ing ; and the saints doubtless gave the huge balls a hoist over 
 the heads of those who were asking grace from them, but from 
 no mortal creatures. So we had the signal to rise and rush on, 
 and I promise you there were no sluggards. Every man felt ten 
 men's strength. My halberd is no child's toy — if }-ou have for- 
 gotten it, there it is — and yet it trembled in my grasp as if it 
 had been a willow-wand to drive cows, with. On we went, when 
 suddenly the cannon were silent, and the earth- shook with 
 another and continued growl and battering,' like thunder under 
 ground. It was the men-at-arms rushing to charge us. But 
 our leaders knew their trade, and had seen such a sight before 
 — It was. Halt, halt — kneel down in the front — stoop in the 
 second rank — close shoulder to shoulder like brethren, lean all 
 spears forward, and receive them like an iron wall ! On they 
 rushed, and there was a rending of lances that would have 
 served the Unterwalden old women with splinters of firewood 
 for a twelvemonth. Down went armed horse — down went ac- 
 coutred knight — down went banner and bannerraan — down 
 went peaked boot and crowned helmet, and of those who fell 
 not a man escaped with life. So they drew off in confusion, and 
 were getting in order to charge again, when the Noble Duke 
 Ferrand and his horsemen dashed at them in their own Way, and 
 we moved onward to support him. Thus on we pressed, and 
 the foot hardly waited for us, seeing their cavalry so handled. 
 Then if you had seen the dust and heard the blows ! the noise 
 of a hundred thousand thrashers, the flight of the chaff which 
 they drive about, would be but a type of it. On my word, I 
 almost thought it shatae to dash about my halberd, the rout was 
 so helplessly piteous. Hundreds were slain unresisting, and 
 the whole army was in complete flight." 
 
 "My father — my father!" exclaimed Arthur; " in such a 
 rout, what can have become of him ? " 
 
 " He escaped safely," said the Swiss ; " fled with Charles." 
 
 " It must have been a bloody field ere he fled," replied the 
 Englishman. 
 
 " Nay," answered Sigismutid, "he took no part in the fight, 
 but merely remained by Charles ; and prisoners said it was well 
 for us, for that he is a man of great counsel and action in the 
 wars. And as to flying, a man in such a matter must go back 
 if he cannot press forward, and there is no shame in it, especially 
 if you be not engaged in your own person." 
 
 As he spoke thus, their conversation was interrupted by Mor- 
 daunt, with " Hush, hush — the King and Queen come forth." 
 
380 Al^NE OP GEIERSTEM. 
 
 "What am I to do ? " said Sigismund, in some alarm. " I 
 care not for the Duke of Lorraine ; but what am I to do when 
 Kings and Queens enter? " 
 
 " Do nothing but rise, unboniiet yourself, and be silent." 
 
 Sigismund did as he was directed. 
 
 King Ren^ came forth arm in arm with his grandson ; and 
 Margaret followed, with deep disappointment and vexation on 
 her brow. She signed to Arthur as she passed, and said to him 
 — " Make thyself master of the truth of this most unexpected 
 news, and bring the particulars to me. Mordaunt will introduce 
 thee." 
 
 She then cast a look on the young Swiss, and replied cour- 
 teously to his awkward salutation. The royal party then left 
 the room, Ren^ bent on carrying his grandson to the sporting- 
 party, which had been interrupted, and MaVgaret to seek the 
 solitude of her private apartment, and await the confirmation of 
 what she regarded as evil tidings. 
 
 They had no sooner passed, than Sigismund observed, — 
 " And so that is a King and Queen ! — Pest ! the King looks 
 somewhat like old Jacomo, the violer, that used to scrape on the 
 fiddle to us when he came to Geierstein in his rounds. But the 
 Queen is a stately creature. The chief cow of the herd, who 
 carries the bouquets and garlands, and leads the rest to the 
 chalet, has not a statelier pace. And how deftly you approached 
 her and spoke to her ! I could not have done it with so much 
 grace — but it is like that you have served apprentice to the court 
 trade ? " 
 
 " Leave that for the present, good Sigismund," answered 
 Arthur, " and tell me more of this battle." 
 
 " By Saint Mary, but I must have some victuals and. drink 
 first," said Sigismund, " if your credit in this fine place reaches 
 so f jr." 
 
 " Doubt it not, Sigismund," said Arthur ; and, by the inter- 
 vention of Mordaunt, he easily procured, in a n-.ove retired, 
 apartment, a collation and wine, to which the young Biederman 
 did great honor, smacking his lips with much gusio after the 
 delicious wines, to which, in spite of his father's ascetic precepts, 
 his palate was beginning to be considerably formed and habit- 
 uated. _When he found himself alone with a flask oicoteicti 
 and a biscuit, and his friend Arthur, he was easily led to con- 
 tinue his tale of conquest. 
 
 "Well — where was I ? — Oh, where we broke their infantry — 
 well — they never rallied, and fell into greater confusion at 
 every step — and we might have slaughtered one half of them, 
 had we not stopped to examine Charles's camp. Mercy on us, 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 381 
 
 Arthur, what a sight was there ! Every pavilion was full of rich 
 clothes, splendid armor, and- great dishes and flagons, which 
 some men said were of silver ; but I knew there was not so 
 much silver in the world, and was sure they must be of pewter, 
 rarely burnished. Here there were hosts of laced lackeys 
 and grooms, and pages, and as many attendants as there were 
 soldiers in the army ; and thousands, for what I knew, of 
 pretty maidens. By the same token both menials and maidens 
 placed themselves at the disposal of the victors ; but I promise 
 you that my father was right severe on any who would abuse the 
 rights of war. But some of our young men did not mind him, 
 till he taught them obedience with the staff of his halberd. 
 Well," Arthur, there was fine plundering, for the Germans and 
 French that were with us rifled everything, and some of our 
 men followed the example — it is very catching — So I got into 
 Charles's own pavilion, where Rudolph and some of his people 
 were trying to keep out every one, that he might have the spoil- 
 ing of it himself, I think ; but neither he, nor any Bernese of 
 them all, dared lay truncheon over my pate ; so I entered, and 
 saw them putting piles of pewter trenchers, so clean as to look 
 like silver, into chests and trunks. I pressed through them 
 into the inner-place, and there was Charles's pallet-bed — ^I will 
 do him justice, it was the only hard one in his camp — and there 
 were fine sparkling stones and pebbles lying about among 
 gauntlets, boots, vambraces, and such-like gear — So I thought 
 of your father and you, and looked for something, when, what 
 should I see but ray old friend here " (here he drew Queen 
 Margaret's necklace from his bosom), " which I knew, because 
 you remember I recovered it from the Scharfgerichter at 
 Breisach. — Oho ! you pretty sparklers,' said I, ' you shall be 
 Burgundian no longer, but go back to my honest English 
 friends,' and therefore " 
 
 " It is of immense value," said Arthur, " and belongs not 
 to niy father or to me, but to the Queen you saw but now." 
 
 " And she will become it rarely," answered Sigismund. 
 " Were she but a score, or a score and a half years younger, 
 she were a gallant wife for a Swiss landholder. I would war- 
 rant her to keep his household in high order." 
 
 " She will reward thee liberally for recovering her prop- 
 erty," said Arthur, scarce suppressing a smile at the idea of 
 the proud, Margaret becoming the housewife of a Swiss shep- 
 herd. 
 
 " How— reward ! " said the Svviss. " Bethink thee, I am 
 Sigismund Biederman, the son of the Landamman of Unter- 
 walden — I am not abase lanz-knecht, to be paid for courtesy with 
 
382 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 piastres. Let her grant me a kind word of thanks, or the 
 matter a of kiss,i and I am well contented." 
 
 " A kiss of her hand, perhaps," said ' Arthur, again smiling 
 at his friend's simplicity. 
 
 " Umph, the hand ! Well ! it may do for a Queeil of some 
 fifty years and odd, but would be poor homage to a Queen of 
 May." 
 
 Arthur here brought back the youth to the subject of his 
 battle, and learned that the slaughter of the Duke's forces in 
 the flight had been in no degree equal to the importance of the 
 action. 
 
 " Many rode off on horseback," said Sigismund ; " and our 
 German reiters flew on the spoil when they should have fol- 
 lowed the chase. And besides, to speak truth, Charles's camp 
 delayed our very selves in the pursuit ; but had we gone half- 
 a-mile further, and seen our friends hanging on trees, not a 
 Confederate would have stopped from the chase while he had 
 limbs' to carry him in pursuit." 
 
 " And what has become of the Duke ? " 
 
 " Charles has retreated into Burgundy, like a boar who has 
 felt the touch of the spear, and is more enraged than hurt; but 
 is, they say, sad and sulky. Others report that he has collected 
 all his scattered army, and immense forces besides, and has 
 screwed his subjects to give him money, so that we may expect 
 another brush. But all Switzerland will join us after such a 
 victory." 
 
 " And my father is with him ? " said Arthur. 
 
 " Truly he is, and has in a right godly manner tried to set 
 afoot a treaty of peace with my own father. But it will scarce suc- 
 ceed. Charles is as mad as ever ; and our people are right proud 
 of our victory, and so they well may. Neverthel'ess, my father 
 for ever preaches that such victories, and such heaps of wealth, 
 will change our ancient manners, and that the ploughman will 
 leave his labor to turn soldier. He says much about it ; but 
 why money, choice meat and wine, and fine clothing, should do 
 so much harm, I cannot bring my poor brains to see — And 
 many better heads than mine are as much puzzled — Here's to 
 you, friend Arthur — This is choice liquor! " 
 
 " And what brings you and your General, Prince Ferrand, 
 post to Nancy ? " said the young Englishman. 
 
 " Faith, you are yourself the cause of our journey." 
 
 " I the cause ? " said Arthur.—" Why, how could that be ? " 
 
 " Why, it is said you and Queen Margaret are urging this 
 old fiddling King Ren^ to yield up his territories to Charles, 
 and to disown Ferrand in his claim upon Lorraine. And the 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSrEIN. 
 
 383 
 
 Duke of Lorraine sent a man that you know well — that is, you 
 do not know him, but you know some of his family, arid he 
 knows more of you than you wot — to put a spoke in your 
 wheel, and prevent your getting for Charles the county of Pro- 
 vence, or preventing Ferrand being troubled or traversed in 
 his natural rights over Lorraine." 
 
 " On my word, Sigismund, I cannot comprehend you," said 
 Arthur. 
 
 "Well," replied the Swiss, "my lot is a hard one. All our 
 house say that I can comprehend nothing, and I shall be next 
 told that nobody can comprehend me. — Well, in plain language, 
 I mean, my uncle, Count Albert, as he calls himself, of Geier- 
 stein — my father's brother." 
 
 " Anne of Geierstein's father ? " echoed Arthur. 
 
 "Ay, truly; I thought we should find some' mark to make 
 you know him by." 
 
 " But I never saw him." 
 
 " Ay, but you have though — An able man he is, and knows 
 more of every man's business than the man does himself. Oh ! 
 it was not for nothing that he married the daughter of a 
 Salamander ! " , . 
 
 " Pshaw, Sigismund, how can you b,elieve that nonsense ? " 
 answered Arthur. 
 
 " Rudolph told me you were as much bewildered as I was 
 that night at Graffs-lust," answered the Swiss. 
 
 " If I were so, I was the greater ass for my pains," answered 
 Arthur. 
 
 " Well, but this uncle of mine has got some of the old con- 
 juring books from the library at Arnheim, and they say he can 
 pass from place to place with more than mortal speed ; and 
 that he is helped in his designs by mightier counselors than 
 mere men. Always, however, though so ably and highly en- 
 dowed, his gifts, whether coming from a lawful or unlawful 
 quarter, bring him no abiding advantage. He is eternally 
 plunged into strife and danger." 
 
 "I know few particulars of his life," said Arthur, disguising 
 as much' as he could his anxiety to hear more of him,; " but I 
 have heard that he left Switzerland to join the Emperor." 
 
 "True," answered the young Swiss, "and married the, 
 young Baroness of Arnheim— but afterward he incurred my 
 namesake's imperial displeasure, and not less that of the Duke 
 of Austria. , They say you cannot live in Rome and strive with 
 the Pope ; so my uncle thought it best to cross the Rhine, and 
 betake himself to Charles's court, who willingly received noble- 
 men from all countries, so that they had good sounding; names, 
 
384 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 with the title of Count, Marquis, Bafbn, or such-like, to march 
 in front of them. So my uncle was most kindly received ;' but 
 within this year or two all this friendship has been broken up. 
 Uncle Albert obtained a great lead in some rflysterious societies 
 of which Charles disapproved, and set so hard at my poor 
 uncle, that he was fain to take orders and shave his hair, 
 rather than lose his head. But though he cut off his hair, his 
 brain remains as busy as ever ; and although the Duke suffered 
 him to be at large, yet he found him so often in his way, that 
 all men believed he waited but an excuse for seizing upon him 
 and putting him to death. But my uncle persists that he fears 
 not Charles : and that; Duke as he is, Charles has' more occa- 
 sion to be afraid of him. — And so you saw how boldly he played 
 his part at La Ferette." 
 
 "By Saint George of Windsor ! " exclaimed Arthur, " the 
 Black Priest of St. Paul's ! " 
 
 " Oh, ho ! you understand me now. Well, he took it upon 
 him that Charles would not dare to punish him for his share in 
 De Hagenbach's death ; and no more did he, although uncle 
 Albert sat and voted in the Estatfes of Burgundy, and stirred 
 them up all he could to refuse giving Charles the moneyihe 
 asked of them. But when the Swiss war broke out, uncle 
 Albert became assured his being a clergyman would be no 
 longer his protection, and that the Duke intended to have him 
 accused of corresponding with his brother and countrymen ; 
 and so he appeared suddenly in Ferrand's camp at Neufchatel, 
 and sent a message to Charles that he renounced his al- 
 legiance, and bid him defiance." 
 
 " A singular story of an active and versatile man," said the 
 , young Englishrpan. 
 
 " Oh, you may seek the world for a man like uncle Albert. 
 Then he knows everything ; and he told: Duke Ferrand what 
 you were about here, and offered to go and bring more certain 
 information — ay, though he left the Swiss camp but five or six 
 days before the battle, and the distance between Aries and 
 iS'eufchatel be four hundred miles complete, yet he met him on 
 his return, when Duke Ferrand, with me to -show him the way, 
 was hastening hitherward, havitig set off from the very field of 
 battle." 
 
 " Met him ! " said Arthur—" Met whom ? — Met the Black 
 Priest of St. Paul's ? " 
 
 " Ay, I mean so," replied Sigismund ; " but he was habited 
 as a Carmelite monk." 
 
 " A Carmelite ! " said Arthur, a sudden light flashing on 
 him ; " and I was so blind as to recommend his services to the 
 
ANNE OF GEIEIiSTElN. 385 
 
 Queen ! I remember well that he kept his face much concealed 
 in his cowl — and I, foolish beast, to fall so grossly into the 
 snare! — And yet perhaps it is as well the transaction was in- 
 terrupted, since I fear, if carried successfully through, all must 
 have been disconcerted by this astounding defeaU" 
 
 Their conversationhadthus far proceeded, when Mordaunt 
 appearing, summoned Arthur to his royal mistress's apartment. 
 In that gay palace, a gloomy room, whose windows looked upon 
 some part of the ruins of the Roman edifice, but excluded every 
 other object, save broken walls and tottering columns, was the 
 retreat which Margaret had chosen for her own. She received 
 Arthur with a kindness, more -touching that it was the inmate 
 of so proud and fiery a disposition, — of a heart assailed with 
 many woes, and feeling them severely. 
 
 " Alas, poor Arthur ! " she said, " thy life begins where thy 
 father's threatens to end, in useless labor to save a sinking 
 vessel. The rushing leak pours in its waters faster than human 
 force can lighten or discharge. All — all goes wrong, when our 
 unhappy cause becomes connected with it-^ — Strength becomes 
 weakness, wisdom folly, and valor cowardice. The Duke of 
 Burgundy, hitherto victorious in all his bold undertakings, has 
 but to entertain the momentary thought of yielding succor to 
 Lancaster, and behold his sword is broken by a peasant's flail ; 
 and his disciplined army, held to be the finest in the world, flies 
 like chaff before the wind ; while their spoils are divided, by 
 renegade German hirelings, and barbarous Alpine shepherds ! — 
 What more hast thou learned of this strange tale ? " 
 
 " Little, madam, but what you have heard. The worst 
 additions are, that the battle was shamefully xowardlike, and 
 completely lost, with every advantage to have won it-^the best, 
 that the Burgundian army has been rather dispersed than de- 
 stroyed, and that the Duke himself has escaped, and is rallying 
 his forces in Upper Burgundy." 
 
 " To sustain a new defeat, or engage in a protracted and 
 doubtful contest, fatal to his reputation as defeat itself. Where 
 is thy father V 
 
 " With, the Duke, madam, as I have been informed," replied 
 Arthur. * 
 
 " Hie to him, and say I charge him to Jqpk after his own 
 safety, and care no further for my interests. This lastblow 
 has sunk me, I am without an ally, without a friend, without 
 treasure " 
 
 " Not so, madam," replied Arthur. " One piece of good 
 fortune has brought back to your Grace this inestimable relic of 
 
386 ANNE OF GEJERSTEIN. 
 
 your fortunes." — And, producing the precious necklace, he gave 
 the history of its recovery. 
 
 " I rejoice at the chance which Tias restored these diamonds," 
 said the Queen, " that in point of gratitude, at least, I may not 
 be utterly bankrupt. Carry them to your father — tell him my 
 schemes are over — and my heart, which so long clung to hope, 
 is broken at last. — Tell him the trinkets are his own, and to 
 his own use let him apply them. They will but poorly repay 
 the noble earldom, of Oxford, lost in the cause of her who sends 
 them." 
 
 " Royal madam," said the youth, " be assured my father 
 would sooner live by service as a schwarzreiter, than become a 
 burden on your misfortunes." 
 
 " He never yet disobeyed command of mine," said Margaret ; 
 "and this is the laist I will lay upon him. If he is too rich or 
 too proud to benefit by his Queen's behest, he will find enough 
 of poor Lancastrians who have fewer means, or fewer scruples." 
 
 " There is yet a circumstance I have to communicate," said 
 Arthur, and recounted the history of Albert of Geierstein, and 
 the disguise of a Carmelite monk. 
 
 " Are you such a fool," answered the Queen, " as to suppose 
 this man has any supernatural powers to aid him in his ambi- 
 tious projects and his hasty journeys ? " 
 
 "No, madam — but it is whispered that the Count Albert of 
 Geierstein, or this Black Priest of St. Paul's, is a chief amongst 
 the Secret Societies of Germany, which even princes dread 
 whilst they hate them ; for the man that can command a hundred 
 daggers must be feared even by those who rule thousands of 
 swords." 
 
 " Can this person," said the Queen, " being now a churchman, 
 retain authority amongst those who deal in life and death .' It 
 is contrary to the canons." 
 
 " It would seem so, royal madam ; but everything in these 
 dark institutions differs from what is practiced' in the light of 
 day. Prelates are often heads of a Vehmique bench, and the 
 Archbishop of Cologne exercises the dreadful office of their chief 
 as Duke of Westphalia, the principal region in which these 
 societies flourish." * Such privileges attach to the Ifecret influ- 
 
 * The Archbishop of Cologne was recognized as head of all the free 
 Tribunals {i.e. the Vehmique benches) in Westphalia, by a writ of privilege 
 granted in 1335 by the Emperor Charles IV. Winteslaus confirmed tUs 
 act by a privilege dated 1-^82, in which the Archbishop is termed Grand 
 Master of the Vehme. or Grand Inquisitor. And this prelate nnd, other 
 priests were encouraged to exercise such office by Pop? Boniface HI., whose 
 ecclesiastical discipline permitted them in such cases to assume the right of 
 judging in matters of life and death. 
 
AiVNE OF GEIERSTEJN. 387 
 
 ence of the chiefs of this dark association, as may well seem 
 supernatural to those who are unapprized of circumstances, of 
 which men shun to speak in plaih terms." 
 
 " Let him be wizard or assassin," said,the Queen, " I thank 
 him for having contributed to interrupt my plan of the old man's 
 cession of Provence, which, as events stand, would have stripped 
 Ren^ of his dominions without furthering our plan of invading 
 England. — Once more, be stirring with the dawn, and' bend thy 
 way back to thy father, and charge him to care for himself, and 
 think no more of me. Bretagne, where the heir of Lancaster 
 resides, will be the safest place of refuge for its bravest follower. 
 Along the Rhine, the Invisible Tribunal, it would seem, haunts 
 both shores, and to be innocent of ill is no security ; even here 
 the proposed treaty with Burgundy may take air, and the Pro- 
 vengaux carry daggers as well as crooks and pipes. But I hear 
 the horses fast returning from the hawking party, and the silly 
 old man, forgetting all the eventful^ proceedings of the day, 
 whistling as he ascends the steps. Well, we will soon part, 
 and my removal will be, I think, a relief to him. Prepare for 
 banquet and ball, for noise and nonsense — above all, to bid 
 adieu to Aix with morning dawn." 
 
 Thus dismissed from the Queen's presence, Arthur's first care 
 was to summon Thiebault to have all things in readiness for his 
 departure ; his next to prepare himself for the pleasures of the 
 evening, not, perhaps, so heavily affected by the failure of his 
 negotiation as to be incapable of consolation in such a scene; for 
 the truth was, that his mind secretly revolted at the thoughts of 
 the simple old King being despoiled of his dominions to further 
 an invasion of England, in which, whatever interest he might 
 have in his daughters rights, there was little chance of success. 
 
 If such feelings were censurable, they had their punishment. 
 Although few knew how completely the arrival of the Duke of 
 Lorraine, and the intelligence he brought with him, had discon- 
 certed the plans of Queen Margaret, it was well known there had 
 been little love betwixt the Queen and his mother Yolande ; and 
 the young^ince found himself at the head of a numerous party 
 in the couH||(|f his grandfather, who disliked his aunt's haughty 
 manners, and were wearied by the unceasing melancholy of her 
 looks and conversation, and her undisguised contempt of the 
 frivolities which passed around her. Ferrand, besides, was 
 young, handsome, a victor just arrived from a field of battle, 
 fought gloriously, and gained against all chances to the contrary. 
 That he was a general favorite, and excluded Arthur Philipson, 
 as an adherent of the unpopular Queen, from the notice her in- 
 fluence had on a former evening procured him, was only a nat- 
 
388 ANA'B OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 ural consequence of their relative condition. But what some- 
 what hurt Arthur's feelings was to see his friend Sigismund the 
 Simple, as his brethren called him, shining with the reflected 
 glor/ of the Duke Ferrand of Lorraine, who introduced to all 
 the ladies present the gallant young Swiss as Count Sigismund 
 of Geierstein. His care had procured for his follower a dress 
 rather more suitable for such a scene than the country attire of 
 the Count, otherwise Sigismund Biederman. 
 
 For a certain time, whatever of novelty is introduced into 
 society is pleasing, though it has nothing else to recommend it. 
 The Swiss were little known personally out of their own country, 
 but they were much talked of ; it was a recommendation to be 
 of that country. Sigismund's manners were blunt; a mixture 
 of awkwardness and rudeness, which was termed frankness dur- 
 ing the moment of his favor. He spoke bad French and worse 
 Italian — it gave ndivetito all he said. His limbs were too bulky 
 to be elegant ; his dancing, for Count Sigismund failed not to 
 dance, was the bounding and gamboling of a young elephant ; 
 yet they were preferred to the handsome proportions and courtly 
 movements of the youthful Englishman, even by the black-eyed 
 Countess, in whose good graces Arthur had made some progress 
 on the preceding evening. Arthur, thus thrown into the shade, 
 felt as Mr. Pepys afterward did when he tore his camlet cloak 
 — the damage was not great, but it troubled him. 
 
 Nevertheless, the passing evening brought him some re- 
 venge. There are some works of art, the defects of which are 
 not seen till they are injudiciously placed in loo strong a light, 
 and such was the case with Sigismund the Simple. The quick- 
 witted, though fantastic Provengaux, soon found out the 
 heaviness of his intellect, and the extent of his good-nature, 
 and amused themselves at his expense, by ironical compliments 
 and well-veiled raillery. It is probable they would have been 
 less delicate on the subject, had not the Swiss brought into the 
 dancing-room along with him hi§ eternal halberd, the size, and 
 weight, and thickness of which boded little good to any one 
 whom the owner might detect in the act of making merry at 
 his expense. But Sigismund did no further miscUMphat night, 
 except that, in achieving a superb entrechat, he alighted with 
 his whole weight on the miniature foot of his pretty partner, 
 which he well-nigh'crushed to pieces. 
 
 Arthur had hitherto avoided looking toward Queen Mar- 
 garet during the course of the evening, lest he should disturb 
 her thoughts from the channel in which they were rolling, by 
 seeming to lay a claim on her protection. But there was some- 
 thing so whimsical in the awkward physiognomy of the mal- 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 389 
 
 adroit Swiss, that he could not help glancing an eye to tlie 
 alcove where the Queen's. chair of state was placed, to see if 
 she observed him. The yeiry first view was such as to rivet his 
 attention. Margaret's head *as reclined on the chair, her eyes 
 scarcely open, her features drawn up and pinched, her hands 
 closesd with effort. The English lady of honor who stood behind 
 'her — old, deaf, and dim-sighted — had not discovered anything 
 in her mistress's position more than the abstracted and in- 
 different attitude with which the Queen was wont to be present 
 in body and absent in mind during the festivities of the Pro- 
 ven9ai court. But when Arthur, greatly alarmed, came behind 
 the seat to press her attention to her mistress, she exclaimed,' 
 after a minute's investigation, " Mother of Heaven, the Queen 
 is dead ! " And it was so. It seemed that the last fibre of 
 life in that fiery and ambitious mind had, as she herself 
 prophesied, given way at the same time with the last thread of 
 political hope. 
 
 CHAPTER THIRTY-THIRD. 
 
 Toll, toll the bell ! 
 Greatness is o'er, 
 The heart has broke, 
 ■To ache no more; 
 An unsubstantial pageant all — ,. 
 Drop o'er the scene the £uncra,l-pall. 
 
 Old Poem. 
 
 The commotion and shrieks of fear and amazement which 
 were excited among the ladies of the court by an event so 
 singular and shocking, had begun to abate, and the sighs, 
 more serious though less intrusive, of the few English attend- 
 ants of the deceased Queen began to be heard, together with 
 the groans of, old, King Ren^, whose emotions were as acute 
 as they wAd^ortlived. The leeches had held a busy but un- 
 availing conHltation, and the body that was once a Queen's, 
 was delivered to the Priest of St. Sauveur, that beautiful church 
 in which the spoils of Pagan temples have contributed to fill 
 up the magnificence of the Christian edifice. The stately pile 
 was duly lighted up, and the funeral provided with such 
 splendor as Aix could supply. The Queen's papers being ex- 
 amipecl, it was found that Margaret, by disposing of jewels and 
 living at small expense, had realized the means of making a 
 
39° 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN, 
 
 decent provision for life, fdr her very few English attendant?. 
 Her diamond neclclace, described in her last will, as in the 
 hands of an English merchant named John Philipson, or his 
 son, or the price thereof, if by them sold or pledged, she left to 
 the said John Philipson and his son Arthur Philipson, with a 
 view to the prosecution of the design which they had been 
 destined to advance, or if that should prove impossible, to their 
 own use and profit. The charge of her funeral rites was 
 wholly intrusted to Arthur, called Philipson, with a request 
 that they should be conducted entirely after the forms observed 
 in England. This trust was expressed in an addition to her 
 will, signed the very day on which she died. 
 
 Arthur lost no time in despatching Thiebault express to his 
 father, with a letter,, explaining in such terms as he knew would 
 be understood, the tenor of all that had happened since he 
 came to Aix, and above all, the death of Qiieen Margaret. 
 
 Finally, he requested directions for his motions, since the 
 necessary delay occupied by the obsequies of a person of such 
 eminent rank must detain him at Aix till he should receive 
 them. 
 
 The old King sustained the shock of his daughter's death so 
 easily, that on the second day after the event, he was engaged 
 in arranging a pompous procession for the funeral, and com- 
 posing an elegy, to be sung to a tune also of his own composing, 
 in honor of the deceased Queen, who was likened to the god- 
 desses of heathen mythology, and to Judith, Deborah, and 
 all the other holy women, not to mention the saints of the 
 Christian dispensation. It cannot be concealed, that when the 
 first burst of grief was over. King Rend could not help feeling 
 that Margaret's death cut a poHtical knot which he might have 
 otherwise found it difficult to untie, and permitted him to take 
 open part with his grandson, so far indeed as to afford him 
 a considerable share of the contents of the Provencal treasury, 
 which amounted to no larger sum than ten thousand crowns. 
 Ferrand having received the blessing of his graiidfather, in a 
 form which his affairs rendered most important to him, returned 
 to the resolutes whom he commanded ; and with hjm, after a 
 most loving farewell to Arthur, went the stout but ^pie-minded 
 young Swiss, Sigismund Biederman. 
 
 The little court of Aix were left to their mourning. King 
 Rend, for whom ceremonial and show, whether of a joyful or 
 melancholy character, was always matter of importance, would 
 willingly have bestowed in solemnizing the obsequies of his 
 daughter Margaret what remained of his revenue, but was 
 prevented from doing so, partly by remonstrances from his 
 
AN'NE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 391 
 
 ministers, partly 'by the obstacles opposed by the young Eng- 
 lishman, who, acting upon the presumed will of the dead, inter- 
 fered to prevent any such fantastic exhibitions being prpduced 
 at the obsequies of the Queen, as had disgusted her during her 
 life. 
 
 The funeral, therefore, after many days had. been spent in 
 public prayers, and acts of devotion, was solemnized with the 
 mournful magnificence due to the birth of the deceased, and 
 with which the Church of Rome so well knows how to effect at 
 once the eye, ear, and feelings. 
 
 Amid the various nobles who assisted on the solemn occasion, 
 there was one who arrived just as the tolling of the great bells 
 of St. Sauveur had announced that the procession was already 
 on its way to the Cathedral. The stranger hastily exchanged 
 his traveling dress for a suit of deep mourning, which was made 
 after the fashion proper to England. So attired, he repaired to 
 the Cathedral, where the noble mien of the cavalier imposed 
 such respect on the attendants, that he was permitted to ap- 
 proach close to the side of the bier; and it was across the 
 coffin of the Queen for whom he had acted and suffered so much, 
 that the gallant Earl of Oxford exchanged a melancholy glance, 
 with his son. The assistants, especially the English servants 
 of Margaret, gazed on them both with respect and wonder, and 
 the elder cavalier, in particular, seemed to them no unapt rep- 
 resentative of the faithful subjects of England, paying their 
 last duty at the tomb of her who had so long sv/ayed the 
 sceptre, if not faultlessly, yet always with a bold and resolved 
 hand. 
 
 The last sound of the solemn dirge had died away, and 
 almost all the funeral attendants had retired, when the father and 
 son still lingered in mournful silence beside the remains of 
 their sovereign. The clergy at length approached, and inti- 
 mated they were about to conclude the last duties, by removing 
 the body which had been lately occupied and animated by so 
 haughty and restless a spirit, to the dust, darkness, arid silence 
 of tlie vault, where the long-descended Counts of Provence 
 awaited dissolution. Six priests raised the bier on their shoul- 
 ders, others bore huge waxen torches before and behind the 
 body, as they carried it down a private staircase v;hich yawned 
 in the floor. to admit their descent. The last notes of the 
 requiem, in which the churchmen joined, had died away along 
 the high and fretted arches of the Cathedral, the last flash of 
 light which arose from the mouth of the vault ha^ glimmered 
 and disappeared, when the Earl of Oxford, taking his spn by 
 the arm, led him in silence forth into a sma.U elois.twect court 
 
392 
 
 ANNE OF GKIERSTEIN. 
 
 behind the building, where they found themselves alone. They 
 were silent for a few minutes, for both, and particularly the 
 father, were deeply affected. At length the Earl spoke. 
 > " And this, tlien, is her end," said he. " Here, royal lady, 
 all that we have planned and pledged' life upon falls to pieces 
 with thy dissolution ! The heart of resolution, the head of 
 policy, is gone ; and wliat avails it that the limbs of the enter- 
 prise still have motion and life ? Alas; Margaret of Anjou ! 
 may Heaven reward thy virtues, and absolve thee from the 
 consequence of thine errors ! Both belonged to thy station, and 
 if thou didst hoist too high a sail in prosperity, never lived there 
 princess who defied more proudly the storms of adversity, or 
 bore up against them with such dauntless nobility of determi- 
 nation. With this event the drama has closed, and our parts, 
 my son, are ended." 
 
 " We bear arms, then, against the infidels, my lord ? " said 
 Arthar, with a sigh that was, however, hardly audible. 
 
 " Not," answered the Earl, "until I learn that Henry of 
 Richmond, the undoubted heir of the House of Lancaster, has 
 no occasion for my services. In these jewels, of which you 
 wrote me, so strangely lost and rtecovered, I may be able to 
 supply him with resources more needful than cither j-out ser- 
 vices or mine'. But I return no more to the camp of the Duke 
 of Burgundy ; for in him thei-e is no help." 
 
 " Can it be possible that the power of so great a sovereign 
 has been overthrown in one fatal battle ? " said Arthur. 
 
 " By no means," replied his father. " The loss at Granson 
 was very great ; but to the strength of Burgundy it is but a 
 scratch on the shoulders of a giant. It is the spirit of Charles 
 himself, his wisdom at' least, and his foresight, which have 
 given way lihder the tnOrtification of a defeat, by such as he ac- 
 counted inconsiderable enemies, and expected to have trampled 
 down with a few squadrons of his men-at-arms. Then his 
 temper is becom,e froward, peevish, and arbitrary, devoted to 
 those who flatter, and, as there is too much reason to believe, 
 betray him ; and suspicious of those counselors who give him 
 wholesome advice. Even I have had my share of distrust,' 
 Thou knowest I refused to bear arms against our latte hosts the 
 Swiss ; and he saw in that no reason for rejecting my attend- 
 ance on his march. 'But since the defeat of Granson, I have 
 observed a strong and sudden change, owing, perhaps, in some 
 degree to the insinuations of Campo-Basso, and not a little to 
 the injured pride of the Duke, who was unwilling that an 
 indifferent person in my situation, and thinking as I do, should 
 witness the disgrace of his arms. He spoke in my hearing of 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 393 
 
 luKewafm frierids, cold-blooded neutrals, — of those who, not 
 being with him, must be against him. I tell ihee, Arthur de 
 Vere, the Duke has said that' which touched my honor so 
 nearly, that nothing but the commands of Que^n Margaret, 
 and the interests ctf the House of Lancaster, could have made 
 me remain in his camp... That is over — My royal mistiress has 
 no more occasion for my poor services^ — the Duke can spare no 
 aid to our cause — and if he could, we can no longer dispose of 
 ' the only bribe which might have induced him to afford us suc- 
 cors. Tlie power of seconding his views on Provence is buried 
 with Margaret of Anjou." 
 
 " What, then, is your purpose ? " demanded his son. 
 
 "I propose," said Oxford, "to wait at the court of King 
 Ren^ until I^ can hear from the Earl of Richmond, as we must 
 still call him. I am aware thdt banished men are rarely wel- 
 come at the court of a foreign prince ; but I have been the 
 faithful follower of his daughter Margaret. I only' propose to 
 reside in disguise, and desire neither notice nor maintenance ; 
 so methinks King Rend will not refuse to permit me to breathe 
 the air of his dominions, untill I learn in what direction fortune 
 or duty shall call me." 
 
 " Be assured he will not," answered Arthur. " Rend is in- 
 capable of a base or ignoble thought ; and if he could' despise 
 trifles as he detests dishonor, he might be ranked high in the 
 list of ihonarchs." 
 
 This resolution being adopted, the son presented his father at 
 King Rent's court, whom he privately made acquainted that he 
 was a man of quality, and a distinguished Lancastrian. The 
 good King would in his heart have preferred a guest of lighter 
 accomplishments and gayfir temper, to Oxford, a statesman 
 and a soldier of melancholy and grave habits. The Earl wr.s, 
 conscious of this, and, seldom troubled his benevolent andligl:t- 
 hearted host with his presence. He had, however, ail opportunity 
 of rendering the old King a favor of peculiar value. This was 
 in conducting an important treaty betwixt Rene and Louis XL 
 of France, his nephew. Upon that crafty monarch, Rend finally 
 settled his principality, for the necessity of extricatii.g his affaits 
 by such a measure was now apparent even to himself, every 
 thought of favoring Charles of Btirgundy in the arrangement 
 having died with Queen Margaret. Tte policy and wisdom of 
 the English Earl, who was intrusted with almost the sole charge 
 of this secret and delicate measure, were of the utnlost advantage 
 to good King Rend, who was'freed from personal and pecuniary 
 vexations, and enabled to go piping and laboring to his gra.f e., 
 Louis did not fail to propitiate the plenipotentiary, by throwing 
 
394 
 
 ANAE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 out distant hopes of aid to the efforts of the Lancastrian party 
 in England. A faint and insecure negotiation was entered into 
 upon the subject ; and these affairs, which rendered two jour- 
 neys to Paris necessary on the part of Oxford and his son, in 
 the spring and summer of the year 14.76, occupied them until 
 that year was half spent. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the wars of the Duke of Burgundy with 
 the Swiss Cantons and Count Ferrandof Lorraine continued to 
 rage. Before midsummer. 1476, Charles had assembled a new 
 army of at least sixty thousand men, supported by one hundred 
 and fifty pieces of cannon, for the purpose of invading Switzer- 
 land, where the warlike mountaineers easily levied a host of 
 thirty thousand Switzers, now accounted almost invincible, and 
 called upon their confederates, the Free Cities on the Rhine, to 
 support them with a powerful body of cavalry. The first efforts 
 of Charles were successful. He overran the Pays de Vaud, and 
 recovered most of the places which he had lost after the defeat 
 at Granson. But instead of attempting to secure a well^defendeq, 
 frontier, or what would have been still more politic, to achiev^ 
 a peace upon equitable terms with his redoubtable neighbors, 
 this most obstinate of princes resumed the purpose of penetrat- 
 ing into the recesses of the Alpine mountains, and chastisinj; 
 the mouptaineers even within their own strongholds, thougli 
 experience might have taught him the danger, nay desperatioi), 
 of the attempt. Thus the news received by Oxford and his 
 son, when they returned to Aix in midsummer, was, that Dukle 
 Charles had advanced to Morat (or Murten), situated upon a, 
 lake of the same name, at the very entrance of Switzerland. 
 Here report said that Adrian de Bubenburg, a veteran knight 
 of Berne, commanded, and maintained the most obstinate de- 
 fence, in expectation of the relief which his countrymen were 
 hastily assembling. 
 
 " Alas, my old brother-in-arms ! " said the Earl to his son, 
 on hearing these tidings, " this town besieged, these assaults 
 repelled, this vicinity of an enemy's country, tl^is profound lake, 
 these inaccessible cliffs, threaten a second part of the tragedy 
 of Granson, more calamitous perhaps than even the former." 
 
 On the last week of June the capital of Provence was 
 agitated by one of those unauthorized, yet generally received 
 rumors, which transmit great events with incredible swiftness, 
 as an apple flung from hand to hand by a number of people will 
 pass a given space infinitely faster than if borne by the most 
 rapid series of expresses. The report announced a second de- 
 feat of the Burguhdians, in terms so exaggerated, as induced 
 the Earl of Oxford to consider the greater part, if not the 
 whole, as a fabrication. 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 3^5 
 
 CHAPTER THIRTY-FOURTH. 
 
 And is the hostile troop arrived, 
 
 And have they won' the day ? 
 It must have been a bloody field 
 , Ere Darwent fled away ! 
 
 Thk Ettrick Shepherd. 
 
 Sleep did not close the eyes of the Earl of Oxford or his 
 son ; for although the success or defeat of the Duke of Burgundy 
 could not now be of importance to their own private or political 
 affairs, yet the father did not cease to interest himself in the 
 fate of his former companion-in-arms ; and the son, with the 
 fire of youth, always eager after novelty,* expected to find 
 something to advance or thwart his own progress in every re- 
 raarkable event which agitated the world. 
 
 Arthur had risen, from his bed, and was in the act of attiring 
 himself, when the tread of a horse arrested his attention. He 
 had no sooner looked out of the window, than, exclaiming, 
 "News, my father, news from the army !" he rushed into the 
 street, where a cavalier, who appeared to have ridden very 
 hird, was inquiring for the two Philipsons, father and son. 
 He had ho difficulty in recognizing Colvin, the master of the 
 Bargundian ordnance. His ghastly look bespoke distress of 
 mind;, his disordered array and broken armor, which seemed 
 -usted with rain, or stained with blood, gave the intelligence of 
 some affray in which he had probably been worsted ; and so 
 exhausted was his gallant steed, that it was with difficulty the 
 mimal could stand upright. The condition of the rider was 
 aot much better. When he alighted from his horse to griet 
 Arthur, he reeled so much that he would have fallen without 
 instant support. His horny eye had lost the power of specula- 
 tion ; his limbs possessed imperfectly that of motion, and it was 
 with a half suffocated voice that he muttered, " Only fatigue — 
 want of rest and of food." 
 
 Arthur assisted him into the house, and refreshments were 
 procured ; but he refused all except a bowl of wine, after tast- 
 ing which he set it down, and looking at the Earl of Oxford - 
 with an eye of the deepest affiiction, he ejaculated, " The Duke 
 of Burgundy ! " 
 
 " Slain ? " replied the Earl ; " I trust not ! " 
 
 * Cupidus novarum rerum. 
 
3g6 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 " It might have been better if he were," said the English- 
 man ; " but dishonor has come before death." 
 
 " Defeated, then ? " said Oxford. 
 
 " So completely and fearfully defeated," answered the 
 soldier, " that all that I have seen of loss before was slight in 
 comparison." 
 
 " But how, or where .'' " said the Earl of Oxford ; "you were 
 superior in numbers, as we were informed." 
 
 " Two to one at least," answered Colvin ; " and when I speak 
 of our encounter at this moment, I could rend my flesh with 
 my teeth for being here to tell such a tale of shame. We had 
 sat down for about a week before that paltry town of Murten, 
 or Morat, or whatever it is called. The governor, one of those 
 stubborn mountain bears of Berne, bade us defiance. He would 
 not even condescend to shut his gates, but when we summoned 
 the town, returned for answer, we might enter if we pleased 
 we should be suitably received. I would have tried to bring 
 him to reason by a salvo or two of artillery, but the Duke was! 
 too much irritated to listen to good counsel. Stimulated by 
 that black traitor, Campo-Basso, he deemed it better to run for- 
 ward with his whole force upon a place, which, though I coul 
 soon have battered it about their German ears, was yet toi 
 strong to be carried by swords, lances, and hagbuts. We wen 
 beaten off with great loss, and much discouragement to thi 
 soldiers. We then commenced m'ore regularly, and my batterie 
 would have brought these mad Switzers to their senses. Wall 
 and ramparts went down before the lusty cannoniers of Bu 
 gundy; we were well secured also by entrenchments against 
 those whom we heard of as approaching to raise the siege. But 
 on the evening of the twentieth of this month, we learned that 
 they were close at hand, aind Charles consulting only his own 
 bold spirit, advanced to meet them, relinquishing the advantage 
 of our batteries and strong position. By his orders, though 
 against my own judgment, I accompanied him with twenty 
 good pieces, and the flower of my people. W* broke up on the 
 next morning, and had not advanced far before we saw the 
 lances and thick array of halberds and two-handed swords which 
 crested the mountain. Heaven, too, added its terrors- — A 
 thunderstorm, with all the fury of those tempestuous climates, 
 descended on both armies, but did most annoyance to -ours, as 
 our troops, especially the Italians, were more sensiblft to the 
 torrents of rain which poured down, and the rivulets, which 
 swelled into torrents, inundated and disordered our position. 
 The Duke for once saw it necessary to alter his purpose of in- 
 stant battle. He rode up to me, and directed me to defend 
 
aa'-jVe of geierstein. 397 
 
 with the cannon the retreat which he was about to commence, 
 adding, that he himself would in person sustain me with the 
 men-at-arms. The order was given to retreat. But the move- 
 ment gave new spirit to an enemy already sufficiently audacious. 
 The ranks of the Swiss instantly prostrated themselves in prayer 
 —a practice in the field of battle which I have ridiculed — but I 
 will do so no more. When, after five minutes they sprung 
 again on their feet, and began to advance rapidly, sounding 
 their horns and crying -their war-cries with all their usual 
 ferocity — behold, my lord, the clouds of Heaven opened, shed- 
 ding on the Confederates the blessed light of the returning sun, 
 while our ranks were still in the gloom of the tempest. My 
 men were discouraged. The host behind them was retreating ; 
 the sudden light thrown on the advancing Switzers showed 
 ilong the mountain a profusion of banners, a glancing of arms, 
 jiving to the enemy the appearance of double the numbers that 
 lad hitherto been visible to us. I exhorted my followers to 
 stand fast, but in doing so 1 thought a thought and spqke a 
 vord, which was a grievous sin. ' Stand fast, my brave can- 
 roniers,' I said, ' we will presently let them hear louder thunders, 
 aid show them more fatal lightnings, than their prayers have 
 put down ! ' — My men shouted — But it was an impious -thought 
 —a blasphemous speech — and evil came after it. We leveled 
 car guns on the advancing masses as fairly as cannon were ever 
 pjinted — I can vouch it, for I laid the Grand Duchess of Bur- 
 gjndy myself — Ah, poor Duchess ! what rude hands manage 
 thee now ! — The volley was fired, and ere the smoke spread from 
 the muzzles, I could see many a maii and many a banner go 
 down. It was natural to think such a discharge should have 
 checked the attack, and whilst the smoke hid the enemy from 
 us, I made every effort again to load our cannon, and anxiously 
 endeavored to look through the mist to discover the state of 
 Our opponents. But ere our smoke was cleared away, or the 
 cannon again loaded, they came headlong down on us, horse 
 and foot, old men and boys, men-at-arms and varlets, charging 
 up to the muzzle of the guns, and over them, with total disr 
 regard to their lives. My brave fellows were cut down, pierced 
 through and overrun, while they were again loading their pieces, 
 nor do I believe that a single cannon was fired a second time." 
 "And the Duke .'"said the Earl of Oxford, "did he, not 
 support you .? " 
 
 "Most loyally and bravely," answered Colvin, ?fwith his 
 own body-guard of Walloons and Burgundians. But a thousand 
 Italian mercenaries went off, and never showed face again. 
 The pass, too, was cumbered with the artillery, and in itself 
 
398 ANNE OF GEIEKSTEJN. 
 
 narrow, bordering on mountains and cliffs, a deep lake close 
 beside. In short, it was a place totally unfit for horsemen to 
 act in. In spite of the Duke's utmost exertions, and those of 
 the gallant Flemings who fought around him, all were borne 
 back in complete disorder. I was on foot, fighting as I could, 
 without hopes of my life, or indeed thoughts of saving it, when 
 I saw the guns taken and my faithful cannoniers slain. But I 
 saw Duke Charles hard pressed, and took my horse from my 
 page that held him — Thou, too, art lost, my poor orphan boy ! 
 I could only aid Monseigneur de la Croye and others to extri- 
 cate the Duke. Our retreat became a total rout, and when we ; 
 reached our rear-guard, which we had left strongly encamped, , 
 the banners of the Switzers were waving on our batteries, for a/ 
 large division had made a circuit, through mountain-passesj 
 known only to themselves, and attacked our camp, vigorously/ 
 seconded by that accursed Adrian de Bubenburg, who salliec 
 from the beleagured town, so that our intrenchments wen 
 stormed on both sides at once. — I have more to say, but havinj 
 ridden day and night to bring you these evil tidings, my tongui 
 clings to the roof of my mouth, and I feel that I can speak n 
 more. The rest is all flight and massacre, disgraceful to ever ■ 
 soldier that shared in it. For my part*, I confess my contumf- 
 lious self-confidence and insolence to man, as well as bla;- 
 phemy to Heaven. If I live, it is but to hide my disgrace [ 
 head in a cowl, and expiate the numerous sins of a licentioiB 
 life." _ [ 
 
 With difficulty the broken-minded soldier was prevailed\ 
 upon to take some nourishment and repose, together with an 
 opiate, which was prescribed by the physician of King Rend, 
 who recommended it as necessary to preserve even the reason 
 of his patient, exhausted by the events of the battle, and sub- 
 sequent fatigue. 
 
 The Karl of Oxford, dismissing other' assistance, watched 
 alternately with his son at Colvin's bedside. Notwithstanding 
 the draught that had been administered, his -repose. was far from 
 sound. Sudden starts, the perspiration which sprung from his 
 brow, the distortions of his countenance., and the inanner in 
 which he clenched his fists and flung about his limbs, showed 
 that in his dreams he was again encountering the terrors of a 
 desperate and forlorn combat. This lasted for several hours ; 
 but about noon fatigue and mfedicine prevailed over nervous 
 excitation, and the defeated commahd'er fell into a deep and 
 untroubled repose till evening. About sunset he awakened, 
 and, after learning with whom and where he was, he partook of 
 refreshments, and without any apparent consciousness, of having 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 399 
 
 told them before, detailed once more all the particulars of the 
 battle of Murten. 
 
 " It were little wide of truth," he said, "to calpul,ate that 
 one half of the Duke's army fell by the sword, or were driven 
 into the lake. Those who escaped, are great part of them scat- 
 tered, never again to unite. Such a desperate and irretrievable 
 rout was never witnessed. We fled like deer, sheep, or any 
 other timid animals, which only remain in company because 
 they are afraid to separate, but never think of order or of 
 defence." , 
 
 " And the Duke ? " said the Earl of Oxford. 
 
 " We hurried him with us," said the soldier, " rather from 
 instinct than loyalty, as men flying from a conflagration snatch 
 up what they have of value without knowing what they are 
 doing. Knight and knave, officer and soldier, fled, in the same 
 panic, and each blast of the horn of Uri in our rear added 
 new wings to our flight." 
 
 " And the Duke ? " repeated Oxford. 
 
 "At first he resisted our efforts, and strove to turn back on 
 the foe ; but when the flight became general, he galloped along 
 with us, without a word spoken or a, command issued. At first 
 we thought his silence and passiveness, so unusual in a temper 
 so fiery, were fortunate for securing his personal safety. But 
 when we rode the whole day. without being able to obtain a 
 word of reply to all our questions— when he sternly refused 
 refreshments of every kind, though he had tasted no food all 
 that disastrous day — when evet;y variation of his moody and 
 uncertain temper was sunk into, silent and sullen despair,, we 
 took counsel what was to be done, and it was by the general 
 voice that I wa.^ despiitched to entreat, [.hat: you, for whose 
 counsels alone Charles has been known to have had some ocp,a- 
 sional deference, would come instantly to his place of retreat, 
 and exert all your influence to awaken him from tl^is lethargy, 
 which may otherwise terminate his existance." 
 
 '■ And what remedy can I interpose ? " said Oxford. , " You 
 know how he neglected my advice, when following it might 
 have served my interest as well as his own. You are aware 
 that my life was not safe among the miscreants that surrounded 
 the Duke, and exercised influence over hiih." 
 
 " Most true," answered Colvin ; " but I also know he is 
 your ancient companion-iii-arms, and it would ill become me to 
 teach the noble Earl of Oxford what the laws of chivalry re- 
 quire. For your lordship's, safety, every honest man in the 
 army will give willing security." 
 
 " It isforthat I care least," said Oxford, indifferently ; " and 
 
400 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 if indeed my presence can be of service to the Duke — if I could 
 believe that he desired it " , 
 
 •' He does — he does, my lord ! " said the faithful soldier, 
 with tears in his eyes. " We heard him name your name,, as if 
 the words escaped him in a painful dream." 
 
 " I will go to him, such being the case," said Oxford. — "I 
 will go instantly. Where did he purpose to establish his head- 
 quarters .' " 
 
 " He had fixed nothing for himself on that or other matters ; 
 but Monsieur de Contay named La Rivifere, near Salins, in 
 Upper Burgundy, as the place of his retreat." 
 
 " Thither, then, will we, my son, with all haste of prepara- 
 tion. Thou, Colvin, hadst better remain here, and see some 
 holy mati, to be assoilzied for thy hasty speech on the ba,ttle- 
 field of Morat. There was offence in it without doubt, but it 
 will be ill atoned for by quitting a generous master when he 
 hath most need of ypur good service ; and it is but an act of 
 cowardice to retreat into the cloister till we have no longer ac- 
 tive duties to perform in this world." 
 
 " It is true," said Colvin, " that should I leave the Duke 
 now, perhaps not a man would stay behind that could stell a 
 cannon properly. The sight of your lordship cannot but oper- 
 ate favorably on my noble master, since it has waked the old 
 soldier in myself. If your lordship can delay your journey till 
 to-morrow I will have my spiritual affairs settled, and my bodily 
 health sufficiently restored to be your guide to La Rivifere ; and 
 for the cloister, I will think of it when I have regained the good 
 name which I have lost at Murten. But I will have masses 
 said, and these right powerful, for the souls of my poor can- 
 noniers." 
 
 The proposal of Colvin was adopted, and Oxford, with his 
 son, attended by Thiebault, spent the day in preparation, ex- 
 cepting the time necessary to take formal leave of King E.ene, 
 who seemed to' part with them with regret. In company with 
 the ordnance officer of the discomfited Duke, they traversed 
 those parts of Province, Dauphind, and Franche Comptd, which 
 lie between Aix and the place to which the Duke of Burgundy 
 had retreated ; but the distance and inconvenience of so long 
 a route consumed more than a fortnight on the road, and the 
 month of July 1476 was commenced, when the travelers arrived 
 in Upper Burgundy, and at the Castle of La Rivifere, about 
 tweijty miles to the south of the town of Salins. The castle, 
 which was but of srnall size, was surrounded by vgry many tents, 
 which were pitched in a crowded, disordered and unsoldierlike 
 manner, very unlike the discipline usually observed in the camp 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 401 
 
 of Charles the Bold. That the Duke was present there, how- 
 ever, was attested by his broad banner, which, rich with all its 
 quarterings, streamed from the battlements of the castle. The 
 guard turned out to receive the strangers; but in a manner so 
 disorderly, that the Earl looked to Colvin for explanation. The 
 master of the ordnance shrugged up his shoulders, and was 
 silent. 
 
 Colvin having sent in notice of his arrival, and that of the 
 English Earl, Monsieur de Contay caused them presently to be 
 admitted, and expressed much joy at their arrival. 
 
 "A few of us," he said, "true servants of the Duke, are 
 holding council here, at which your assistance, my noble Lord 
 of Oxford, will be of the utmost importance. Messieurs De la 
 Croye, De Craon, Rubemprd, and others, nobles of Burgundy, 
 are now assernbled to superintend the defence of the country 
 at this exigence." 
 
 They all expressed delight to see the Earl of Oxford, and 
 had only abstained from thrusting their attentions on him the 
 last time he was in the Duke's camp, as they understood it was 
 his wish to observe incognito. 
 
 '' His Grace," said De Craon, " has asked after you twice, 
 and on both times by your assumed name of Philipson." 
 
 " I wonder not at that, my Lord of Craon," replied the 
 English nobleman ; " the origin of tlie name 'took its rise in 
 former days, when 1 was here during my first exile. It was 
 then said, that we poor Lancastrian nobles must assume other 
 names than out own, and the good Duke Philip said, as I was 
 brother-in-arms to his son Charles, I must be called after him- 
 self, by the name of Philipson. In memory of the good sover- 
 eign, I took that name when the day of need actually arrived, 
 and I see that the Duke thinks of our early intimacy by his 
 distinguishing me so. — How fares his Grace ? " ■ 
 
 The Burgundians looked at each other, anduhere was a 
 pause. ' ' 
 
 " Even like a man stunned, brave Oxford," at length De 
 Contay replied. " Sieur d'Argentin,* you can best inform the 
 noble Earl of the condition of Our sovereign'." 
 
 " He is like a man distracted," said the future historian of 
 that busy period. " After the battle of Granson, he was never, 
 to my thinking, of the same sound judgment as before.^ But 
 then, he was capricious, unreasonable, peremptory, and incon- 
 sistent, and resented every counsel that was offered, as if it had 
 been meant in insult ; was jealous of the least trespass in point 
 * [Philip des Cortiines, Sietir d'Argentin, author of Historical Memoirs. 
 See notes to Quentin Durward, pp. 414, 418.] 
 
402 ANNE OF GETEKSTE/N. 
 
 of ceremonial, as if his subjects were holding him in contempt. 
 Now there is a total change, as if this second blovv had stunned 
 him, and suppressed the violent passions which the first called . 
 into action. He is silent as a Carthusian, solitary as a hermit, 
 expresses interest in nothing, least of all in the guidance of 
 his army. He was, you know, anxious about his dress ; so 
 much so, that there was some affectation even in the rude- 
 nesses which he practiced in that matter. But, woe's me, you 
 will see a change now ; he will not suffer his hair or nails to 
 be trimmed or arranged. < He is totally heedless of respect or 
 disrespect toward him, takes little or no nourishment, uses 
 strong wines, which, however, dc not seem to affect his under- 
 standing ; he will hear nothing of war or state affairs, as little 
 of hunting or of sport. Suppose an anchorite brought from a 
 cell to govern a kingdom, you see in him, except in point of 
 devotion, a picture of the fiery active Charles of Burgundy." 
 
 " You speak of a mind deeply wounded, Sieur d'Argentin," 
 replied the Englishman. " Think you it fit I should present 
 myself before the Duke } '' 
 
 " I will inquire," said Contay ; and leaving the apartment, 
 returned presently, and made a sign to the Earl to follow him. 
 
 In a cabinet, or closet, the unfortunate Charles reclined in 
 a large arm-chair, his legs carelessly stretched on a footstool, 
 but so changed that the Earl of Oxford could have believed 
 what he saw to be the ghost of the once fiery Duke. Indeed, 
 the shaggy length of hair which, streaming from his head, 
 mingled with, his beard ; the hollowness of the caverns, at the 
 bottom of which rolled his wild eyes ; the falling in of the 
 breast, and the advance of the shoulders, gave the ghastly ap- 
 pearance of one who has suffered the final agony which takes 
 from mortality the signs of life and energy. His very costume 
 (a cloak flung loosely over him) increased his resemblance to a 
 shrouded phantom. De Contay named the Earl of Oxford ; 
 but the Duke gazed on him with a lustreless eye, and gave him 
 no answer. 
 
 " Speak to him, brave Oxford," said the Burgundian in a 
 whisper ; " he is even worse than usual, but perhaps he may 
 know your voice." 
 
 Never, when the Duke of Burgundy was in the most palmy 
 state of his fortunes, did the noble Englishman kneel to ki'ss 
 his hand with such sincere reverence. He respected in him, 
 not only the afflicted friend, but the humbled sovereign, upon 
 whose tower of trust the lightning had so recently broken. It 
 was probably the falling of a tear upon his hand .which seemed 
 to awake the Dukes's attc;r,'n.n, for he looked toward the 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 403 
 
 Earl, and said, " Oxford — Philipson— my old— my only friend, 
 hast thou found me out in this retreat of shame and misery ? " 
 
 " I am not your only friend, my lord," said Oxford. " Heaven 
 has given you many affectionate friends among your natural and 
 loyal subjects. But though a stranger, and saving the allegi- 
 ance I, owe to ray lawful sovereign, I will yield to none of them 
 in the respect and deference which I have paid to your Grace 
 in prosperity, and now come to render to you in adversity.". 
 
 " Adversity, indeed! " said the Duke ; " irremediable,'intpl- 
 erable adversity ! I was lately, Charles of Burgundy, called the 
 Bold — now ami twice beaten by a scum of German peasants ; 
 my standard taken, my men-at-arms put to flight, my camp twice 
 plundered, and each time of value more than, equal to the price 
 of all Switzerland fairly lost ; myself hunted like a caitiff goat 
 or chamois — The utmost spite of hell could never accumulate 
 more shame on the head of a sovereign ! " 
 
 " On the contrary, my lord," said Oxford, " it is a trial of 
 Heaven, which calls for patience and strength of mind. The 
 bravest and best knight may lose the saddle; he is but a lag- 
 gard who lies rolling on the sand of the lists after the accident 
 has chanced." 
 
 " Ha, laggard, say'st thou ? " said the Duke, some part of 
 his ancient spirit awakened by the broad taunt ; "Leave my 
 presence, sir, and return to it no more, till you are summoned 
 thither " 
 
 " Which I trust will be no later than your Cjace quits your 
 dishabille, and disposes yourself to see your vassals and friends 
 with such ceremony as befits you and them," said the Eaii 
 composedly. 
 
 •' How mean you by that, Sir Earl ? You are unmannerly." 
 
 " If I be, my lord, I am taught my ill-breeding by circum- 
 stances. I can mourn over fallen dignity ; but I cannot honor 
 him who dishonors himself by bending, like a regardless boy, 
 beneath the scourge of evil, fortune." 
 
 " And who am I that you, should term me such ? " said 
 Charles, starting up in all his natural pride and ferocity ; " or 
 who, are you but a miserable exile, that you should break in 
 upon my privacy with such disrespectful upbraiding ?" 
 
 " For me," replied Oxford, " I am, as you say, an unre- 
 spected exile ; nor am I ashamed of my condition, since un- 
 shaken loyalty to my king and his successors has brought me to 
 it. But in you, can I recognize the Duke of Burgundy in a sullen 
 hermit, whose guards are a disorderly soldiery, dreadful only to 
 their friends ; whoss councils are in confusion for want of their 
 sovereign, and who himself lurks, like a lamed, wolf in its den, in an 
 
404 
 
 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 obscure castle, waiting but a blast of the Switzer's horn to fling 
 open its gatfes, which there are none to defend ; who wears nor 
 a knightly sword to protect his person, and cannot even die 
 like a stag at bay, but must be worried like^ a hunted fox ? " 
 
 " Death and hell, slanderous traitor! " thundered the Duke, 
 glancing a look at his side, and perceiving himself without a 
 weapon, — " It is well for thee I have no sword, or thou shouldst 
 never boast pf thine insolence going unpunished. — Contay step 
 forth like a good kni,ght, and confute the calumniator. Say, are 
 not my soldiers arrayed, disciplined, and in order ? " 
 
 " My lord," said Contay, trembling (brave as he was in 
 battle) at the frantic rage which Charles exhibited, " there are 
 a numerous soldiery yet under your command, but they are in 
 evil order, and in worse discipline, I think, than they were 
 wont." 
 
 " I see it — I see it." said the Duke ; " idle and evil counsel- 
 ors are ye all. — Hearken, Sir of Contay, what have you and 
 the rest pf you been doing, holding as you do large lands and 
 high fiefs of us, that I cannot stretch my limbs on a sick-b^d, 
 when my heart is half broken, but my troops must fall into such 
 scandalous disorder as exposes me to the scorn and repoach of 
 each beggarly foreigner ? " 
 
 " My lord," replied Contay more firmly, "we have done 
 what we could. But your Grace has accustomed your mer- 
 cenary generals and leaders of Free Companies to take their 
 orders Ojnly froni your own mouth, or hand. They clamor also 
 for pay, and the treasurer refuses to issue it without your Grace's 
 order, as he alleges it might Cdst him' his head ; and they will 
 not be guided and restrained, either by us or those who compose 
 your council." ' 
 
 The Duke laughed sternly, '. biit was evidently somewhat 
 pleased with the reply. ' • 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " he said, " it is only Burgundy'who can ride his 
 own wild horses, and rule his own wild soldiery. Hark thee, 
 Contay — To-mol;row I ride forth to review the troops — for what 
 disorder has passed allowance shall be made. ' Pay also shall be 
 issued — but woe to those who shall have offended too deeply ! 
 Let my grooms of the chamber know to provide me fitting dress 
 and arms. I have got a lesson" (glancing a dark look at 
 Oxford), " and I will not again be insulted without the means 
 of wreaking my vengeance. J6egone, bftth of you. And, 
 Contay, send the treasurer hither with his accounts, and woe to 
 his soul if I find aught to complain of ! Begone, I say, and 
 • send him hither." 
 
 They left the apartment with suitable obeisance. As they 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 405 
 
 retired, the Duke said abruptly, " Lord of Oxford, a word with 
 you. Where did you study medicine ? In your own famed 
 university, I suppose. Thy physic hath wrought a wonder. 
 Yet, Doctor Philjpson, it might h3,ve ,cost thee thy life." 
 
 " I have ever thought my life cheap," said Oxford, when the 
 object was to help my friend." 
 
 " Thou art indeed a friend," said Charles, " and a fearless 
 one. But go-^I have been sore troubled, and thou hast tasked 
 my temper closely. Tp-morrow we will speak further ; mean- 
 time, I forgive thee, and I honor thee." 
 
 The Earl of Oxford retired to the Council-hall, where the 
 Burgundian nobility, aware of whait had passed, cro\nfded around 
 him with thanks, compliments, and congratulations. A general, 
 bustle now ensued ; orders were hurried off in every direction. 
 Those officers who had duties to perform which had been neg- 
 lected, hastened to conceal or 'to atone for their negligence. 
 There WES' a general tumult in tlie camp, but it was a tumult of 
 joy ; for soldiers are always most pleased when they are best in 
 order for performing their niiht^ry service; and liqence or in- 
 activity, however acceptable at times, are not, when continued, 
 so agreeable to their nature, as strict discipline and a prospect 
 of employment. 
 
 The treasurer, who was, luckily for him, a man of sense and 
 method, "having been two Jiours in private with the Duke, re- 
 turned with looks of wonder, and professed, that never in 
 Charles's most prosperous days, had, he showed himself rnore 
 acute in the department of finance, of which he had but that 
 morning seemed totally incapable ; and the meritwas universally 
 attributed to the visit of Lord Oxford, whose timely reprimand 
 had, like the shpt- of a cannon dispersing foul mists, awakened 
 the Duke from his black and bilious melancholy. 
 
 On the following day Charles reviewed his troops with his 
 usual attention, directed newleyies, rnade various dispositions 
 of his forces, and corrected the faults of their discipline by 
 severe orders, which were enforced by some deserved punish- 
 ments (of which the Italian mercenaries of Campo-Bassohad a 
 large share), and rendered palatable by the payment of arrears, 
 which was calculated to attach them to the standard uuder which 
 thev served. 
 
 The Duke also, after consulting with his council, agreed to 
 convoke meetings of the States in. his' different territories, re- 
 dress certain popular grievances, and grant some boons which 
 he had hitherto denied ; and thus began to open a new account 
 of popularity with his subjects, in place of that which his rash- 
 ness had exhausted. 
 
4o6 ANNE OF GEJERSTEIN. 
 
 CHAPTER THIRTY-FIFTH. 
 
 -Here's a weapon now, 
 
 Shall shake a con(iuering general in his tenty 
 A monarch on his throne, or reach a prelate, 
 
 However holy be his offices, 
 
 E'en while he serves the altar. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 From this time all was activity in the Duke of Burgundy's 
 court and army. Money was collected, soldiers were levied, and 
 certain news of the Confederates' motions only were wanting to 
 bring on the campaign. But although Charles was, to all out- 
 ward appearance, as active as ever, yet those who were more 
 immediately about his person were of opinion that he did hot 
 display the soundness of mind, or the energy of judgment, 
 which had been admired in him before these calamities. He 
 was still liable to fits of moody melancholy, similar to those 
 which descended upon Saul, and was vehemently furious when 
 aroused offt of them. Indeed, the Earl of Oxford himself seemed 
 to haTC lost the power which he had exercised over him at first. 
 Nay, niough in general Charles was both grateful and affection- 
 ate toward him, he evidently felt humbled by the recollection of 
 his having witnessed hip impotent and disastrous condition, and 
 was so much afraid of Lord Oxford being supposed to lead his 
 counsels, that he often repelled his advice, merely, as it seemed 
 to show his own independence of mind. 
 
 In these froward humors, the Duke was much encouraged 
 by Campo-Basso. That wily traitor now saw his master's affairs 
 tottering to their fall, and he resolved to lend his lever to the 
 work, so as to entitle him to a share of the spoil. He regarded 
 Oxford as one of the most able friends and counselors who 
 adhered to the Duke ; he thought he saw in his looks that he 
 fathomed his own treacherous purpose, and therefore he hated 
 and feared him. Besides, in order perhaps to color over, 
 even to his own eyes, the abominable perfidy he meditated, he 
 affected to be exceedingly enraged against the Duke for the 
 late punishment of marauders belonging to his Italian bands. 
 He believed that chastisement to have been inflicted by the 
 advice of Oxford; and he suspected that the measure was 
 pressed with.the hope of discovering that the Italians had not 
 pillaged for their own emolument only, but for that of their 
 commander. Believing that Oxford was thus hostile to him, 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 407 
 
 Catnpo-Basso would have speedily found means to tak? him 
 out of his path, had not the Earl himself found it prudent to ' 
 observe some precautions ; and the lords of Flanders and Bur- 
 gundy, who loved him for the very reasons for which the Italian 
 abhorred him, watched over his safety with a vigilance, of which 
 he himself was ignorant, but which certainly was the means of 
 preserving his life. 
 
 It was not to be supposed that Ferrand of Lorraine should 
 have left his victory so long unimproved ; but the Swiss Con- 
 federates, who were the strength of his forces, insisted that the 
 first operations should take place in Savoy and the Pays de 
 Vaud, where the Burgundians had many garrisons, which, 
 though they received no relief, yet were not easily or speedily 
 reduced. Besides, the Switzers being, like most of the national 
 soldiers of the time, a kind of militia, most of them returned 
 home, to get in their harvest, and to deposit their spoil in 
 safet}'.' Ferrand, therefore, though bent on pursuing his suc- 
 cess with all the ardor of youthful chivalry, was prevented 
 from making any movement in advance until the month of 
 Deceniber 1476. In the meantime the Duke of Burgundy's, 
 forces, to be least burdensome to the country, were cantoned in 
 distant places of his dominions, where every exertion i^as made 
 to perfect the discipline of the new levies. The Duke, if left 
 to himself, would have precipitated the struggle . by ■*.gain 
 assembling his forces, and-pushing forward into the Helvetian 
 territories ; but though he inwardly foai'hed*'' at ^he recollection 
 of Granson and Murten, the memory of these clisasfers was too 
 recent to permit such a plan pf the campaign. Meantime, 
 weeks glided past, and the month of December was far ad- 
 vanced, when one rnorning, as the Duke was sitting in council, 
 Camp6-Basso suddenly eni:ered, with a degree of extravagant 
 rapture in hi* countenance, singularly different from the cold, 
 regulated, and subtle smile which was usually his utmost ad- 
 vance toward laughter. *' Gnaiites" * he said, " Guantes, for 
 luck's sake, if it please your Grace." 
 
 " And what of good fortune comes nigh us ? " said the Duke, 
 • — " Methought she had forgot the way to our, gates,"- 
 
 '' She has returned to them, please pour Highness, with her 
 cornucopia full of choicest gifts,' ready to your her fruit, her 
 flowersjjier treasures, on the head of the sovereign of Europe 
 most worthy to receive them." 
 
 * Guantes, used by the Spanish as the French say etrennes, or the 
 English handsel! or luckpenny — phrases used by inferiors to their patrons 
 as the bringers of good news. 
 
4o8 ' ANNE OF GEIEKSTBIN. 
 
 " The meaning of all this ? " said Duke Charles ; " riddles 
 are for children." 
 
 " The harebrained young madman Ferran^, who calls him- 
 self of Lorraine, has broken down from the mountains, at the 
 head of a desultory army of scape-graces like himself ; and what 
 think you, — ha ! ha ! ha ! — they are overrunning Lorraine, and 
 have taken Nance — ha ! ha ! ha 1 " 
 
 " By my good faith. Sir Count," said Contay, astonished at 
 the gay humor with which the Italian tre^.ted a matter so 
 serious, " I have seldom heard -a fool laugh more gayly at a more 
 scurvy jest, than you, a wise man, laugh at the loss of the prin- 
 cipal town of the province we are fighting for." 
 
 " I laugh," said Campo-Basso, " among the spears, as my 
 vsfar-horse does — ha ! ha ! — among the trumpets. I laugh also 
 over the destruction of the enemy, and the dividing of the spoil, 
 as eagles scrfeam their joy over the division of their prey ; I 
 laugh " — - 
 
 " Yoii laugh," said the Lord of Contay, waxing impatient, 
 " wjien yOu have all the mirth to yourself, as you laughed after 
 our losses at Granson and Murten." 
 
 "Peace, sir !" said the Duke. "The Count of Campo- 
 Basso has viewed the case as I do. This young knight-errant 
 ventures from the protection of his mountains ; and Heaven 
 deal \»ith me as I keep my oath, when 1 swear that the next. 
 fair field on which we meet shallsee "one of us dead ! It is now 
 the last week of/the old year, and before Tw,elfth-Day we will 
 see vvhether he Gt I shall find the bean in the cake. To arms,. 
 my lords ; let our camp instantly break up, and our troops move 
 forward toward Lorra.ine. Send off the Italian and Albanian 
 light cavalry, and the Stradiots, to scour the country in the van 
 — Oxford, thou wilt bear, arms in this journey, wilt thou 
 not ? " , 
 
 " Surely," sajd the Earl. " I am eating your Highness's 
 bread ; and when enemies invade, it stands with my honor to 
 fight fpr your Gra.ce as if I was your born subject. With your 
 Grace's permission, I will despatch a pursuivant, who shall 
 carry letters to my late kind host, the Landamman of Unter- 
 walden, acquainting him with my purpose." 
 
 The Duke having given a ready assent, the pursuivant was 
 dismissed accordingly, and returned in a few hours, so near h^d 
 the armies approached to each other. He bore a letter from 
 the Landamman, in a tone of courtesy and even kindness re- 
 gretting that any cause should have occurred for bearing arms 
 against his late guest, for whom he expressed high personal 
 regard. The same pursuivant also brought greetings from the 
 
ANNE. OF GEIERSTEIN. 409 
 
 family of the Biedermans to their friend Arthur, and a separate 
 letter, addressed 10 the same person, of which the contents ran 
 thus : — « 
 
 " Rudolph Donnerhugel is desirous to give the young mer- 
 chant, Arthur Philipson, the opportunity of finishing the bargain 
 which remained unsettled between them in the castle-court of 
 Geierstein. He is the more desirous of this, as he is aware 
 that the said Arthur has done him wrong, in seducing the 
 affections of a certain maiden of rank, to whom he, Philipson, 
 is not, and cannot be, anything beyond an ordinary acquaint- 
 ance. Rudolph Donnerhugel will send Arthur Philipson word, 
 when a fair and eqfhal meeting can take place' on neutral 
 ground. In the meantime, he will be as often as possible in 
 the first rank of the skirmishers." 
 
 Young Arthur's heart leapt high as he read the defiance, 
 the piqued tone of which showed the state of the writer's feel- 
 ings, and argued sufficiently Rudolph's disappointment on the 
 subject of Anne of Geierstein, and his suspicion that she ha4 
 bestowed her ^fiections on the youthful stranger. Arthur 
 found means of despatching a reply to the challenge of the 
 Swiss, assuring him of the pleasure with which he would attend 
 his commands, either in front of the line or elsewhere, as 
 Rudolph might desire. 
 
 Meantime the armies were closely approaching to each 
 other, and the light trpops sometimes met. The, Stradiots 
 from the Venetian territory, a, sort of cavalry resembling that 
 of the Turks, performed much of that service on the part of 
 the Burgundian army, for which, indeed, if their fidelity could 
 have been relied on, they were admirably well qualified. The 
 Earl of Oxford observed, that these men, who were under the- 
 command of Qampo-Basso, always brought in intelligence that 
 the enemy were in indifferent order, and in full retreats 
 Besides, information was communicated through their means, 
 that sundry individuals, against whom the Duke of Burgundy 
 entertalined peculiar, personal dislike, and whom he specially 
 desired to get into his hands, had taken refuge in Nancy. 
 This greatly increased the Duke's ardor for retaking that place, 
 which became perfectly ungovernable when he learned that 
 Ferrand and his Swiss allies had drawn off to a neighboring 
 position called Saint Nicholas, on the news of his arrival. The 
 greater part of the Burgundian counselors, together with the 
 Earl, of Pxford, protested against his besieging a place of some 
 strength, while an active, enemy lay in the neighborhood tQ 
 relieve it. They remonstrated on, the smallness of his army, 
 on^the severity of the weather, on the difficulty of obtaining 
 
410 AA'NE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 provisions, and exhorted the Duke, that having made such a 
 movement as had forced the enemy to retreat, he ought to 
 suspend decisive operations till spring. Charles at first tried 
 to dispute and repel these arguments ; but when his counselors 
 reminded him that he was placing himself and his army in the 
 same situation as at Granson and Murten, he became furious at 
 the recollection, foamed at the mouth, and only answered by 
 oaths and imprecations, that he would be master of Nancy 
 before Twelfth-Day. 
 
 Accordingl)', the army of Burgundy sat down before Nancy, 
 in a strong position, protected by the hollow of a water-course, 
 and covered with thirty pieces of cannon, which Colvin had 
 under his charge. 
 
 Having indulged Ijis obstinate temper in thus arranging the 
 campaign, the Duke seemed to give a little more heed to the 
 advice of his counselors touching the safety of his person, and 
 permitted the Earl of Oxford, with his son, and two or three 
 officers of his household, men of approved trust, to sleep 
 within his pavilion, in addition to the usual guard. 
 
 It wanted three days of Christmas when the Duke sat down 
 before Nancy, and on that very evening a tumult happened 
 which seemed to justify the alarm for his personal safety. It 
 was midnight, and all in the ducal pavilion were at rest, when 
 a cry of treason arose. The Earl of Oxford; drawing his sword, 
 and snatching up a light which burned beside him, rushed into 
 the Duke's apartment, and found him standing on the floor 
 totally undressed, but with his sword in his hand, and striking 
 around him so furiously, that the Earl himself had difficulty in 
 avoiding his blows. The rest of his officers rushed in, their 
 weapons drawn, and their cloaks wrapped around their left 
 arms. When the Duke was somewhat composed, and found 
 himself surrounded by his friends, he informed them with rage 
 and agitation, that the officers of the Secret Tribunal had, in 
 spite of the vigilant precautions taken, found means to gain 
 entrance into his chamber, and charged him, under the highest 
 penalty, to appear before the Holy Vehme upon Christmas 
 night. 
 
 The bystanders heard this story with astonishment, and 
 some of them were uncertain whether they ouo-ht to consider it 
 as a reality or a dream of the Duke's irritable fancy. But the 
 citation was found on the Duke's toilet, written, as was the 
 form, upon parchment signeted with three crosses, and stuck 
 to the table with a knife. A slip of wood had been also cut 
 from the table. Oxford read the summons with attention. It 
 named as usual a place; where the Duke was cited to come 
 
ANNE OF GEIEl^TEIN. 411 
 
 unarmed and unattended, and from which it was said he would 
 be guided :o the seat of judgment. 
 
 Charles, after looking at the scroll for some time, gave 
 vent to his thoughts. 
 
 "I know from what quiver this arrow comes," he said. " It 
 is shot by that degenerate noble, apostate priest, and accomplice 
 of sorcerers, Albert of Geierstein. We have heard that he is 
 among the motley group of murderers and outlaws, whom the 
 old fiddler of Provence's grandson has raked together. But, 
 by Saint George of Burgundy ! neither monk's cowl, soldier's 
 casque, nor conjuror's cap, shall save him after such an insult 
 as thife. I will degrade him from knighthood, hang him from 
 the highest steeple in Nancy, and his daughter shall choose 
 between the meanest herd-boy in my army, and the convent of 
 filles repent^es !" 
 
 " Whatever are your purposes, my lord," said Contay, " it 
 were surely best to be silent, when, from this late apparition, 
 we may conjecture that more than we wot of may be within 
 hearing." 
 
 The Duke seemed struck with this hint, and was silent, or 
 at Idast only muttered oaths and threats betwixt his teeth, while 
 the strictest search was made for the intruder on his repose. 
 But it was in vain. 
 
 Charles continued his researches, incensed at a flight of 
 audacity higher than ever had b^en ventured upon by these 
 Secret Societies, who, whatever might be the dread inspired by 
 them, had not as yet attempted to cope with ' sovereigns. A 
 trusty party of Burgundians were sent on Christmas night to 
 watch the spot (a meeting of four cross roads) named in the 
 summons, and make prisoners of any whom they could lay 
 hands upon ; but no suspicious person appeared at or near the 
 place. The Duke not the less continued to impute the affront 
 he had received to Albert of Geierstein. There was a price set 
 upon his head j ^"'i Campo-Basso, always willing to please his 
 master's mood, undertook that some of his Italians, sufficiently 
 experiencd in such feats-, should bring the obnoxious baron 
 before him, alive or dead. Colvin, Contay, and others, laughed 
 in secret at the Italian's promises. 
 
 " Subtle as he is," said Colvin, " he will lure the wHd vul- 
 ture from the heavens before he'get Albert of Geierstein into 
 his power." 
 
 Arthur, to whom the words of the Duke had given subject 
 for no small anxiety, on a.ccount of Anne of Geierstein, and of 
 her father for her sake, breathed more lightly on hearing his 
 menaces held so cheaply. 
 
412 ANNE OF GF./EKS7^JiIN. 
 
 It was the second day after this alarm that Oxford felt a 
 desire to reconnoitre the camp of Ferrand of Lorraine, having 
 some dcuibts whether the strength and position of it were accu- 
 rately reported. He obtained the Duke's consent for this pur- 
 pose, who at the same time made him and his son a present of 
 two noble steeds of great power and speed, which he himself 
 highly valued. 
 
 So soon as the Duke's pleasure was communicated to the 
 Italian Count, he expressed the utmost joy that he was to have 
 the assistance of Oxford's age and experience upon an explora- 
 tory party, and selected a chosen tand of a hundred Stradiots, 
 whom he said he had sent sometimes to skirmish up to the 
 very beards of the Switzers. The Earl showed himself much 
 satisfied with the active and intelligent manner in which these 
 men performed their duty, and drove before them and dispersed 
 some parties of Ferrand's cavalry. At the entrance of. a little 
 ascending valley, Campo-Bassp communicated to the Englislji 
 noblemen, that if they could advance to the further extremity 
 they would have a full view of the enemy's position. Two or 
 three Stradiots then spurred on to examine tliis defile, and 
 returning back, communicated wdth their leader in their own 
 language, who, pronouncing the passage safe, invited the Earl 
 of Oxford to accompany him. They proceeded through the 
 valley without seeing an enemy, but on issuing upon a plain 
 at the point intimated by Campo-Basso, Arthur, who was in 
 the van of the Stradiots, and separated from his father, did 
 indeed see the camp of Duke Ferrand within half-a-mile's dis- 
 tance; but ai body of cavalry Lad that instant issued from it, 
 and were riding hastily toward the> .gorge of the valley, from 
 which he had just emerged. He was about to wheel his 
 horse and ride off, but, conscious of the great speed of the 
 animal, he thought he might venture to stay for a moment's 
 more accurate survey of the camp. The Stradiots who attend- 
 ed him did not wait his orders to retire, but went off, as was 
 indeed their duty, when attacked by a surperior force. 
 
 Meantime, Arthur observed that the ktiight who seemed 
 leader of the advancing squadron, mounted on a powerful 
 horse that shook the earth beneath him; bore on his shield. the 
 Bear of Berne, and had otherwise the appearance of the mas- 
 sive frame of Rudolph Donnerhugel. He was satisfied of 
 this when he beheld the cavalier ha,lt his party and advance 
 toward him alone, putting his lance in rest, and moving slow- 
 ly, as if to , give him time for preparation. To accept such a 
 challenge, in such a monient, was dangerous, but to refuse it 
 was disgraceful ; and while Arthur's blood boiled at the idea 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 413 
 
 of chastising an insolent rival, he was not a little pleased at 
 heart that their meeting on horseback gave him an advantage 
 over the Swiss, through his perfect acquaintance with the prac- 
 tice of the tournay, in which Rudolph might be supposed more 
 ignorant. 
 
 They met, as was t'he phrase of the time, " manful under 
 shield." The lance of the Swiss glanced from' the helmet of 
 the Englishman, against which' it was addressed, while the 
 spear of Arthur, directed right against the centre of his adver- 
 sary's body, was so justly aimed, and so truly seconded by the 
 full fury of the career, as to pierce, not only the shield which 
 hung round the ill-fated warrior's neck, but a breast-plate, and 
 a shirt of mail which he wore beneath it. Passing clear 
 through the body, the steel point of the weapon was only stop- 
 ped by the back-piece of the unfortunate cavalier, who fell 
 headlong from his horse, as if struck by lightning, rolled t*ice 
 or thrice over on the gi^ound, tore the earth with his hands, and 
 then lay prostrate a dead corpse. 
 
 There was a cry of rage and grief among those men-at-arms 
 whose ranks Rudolph had that instant left, and many couched 
 their lances to avenge him ; but Ferrand of Lorraine, who was 
 present in person, ordered them to make prisoner, but not to 
 harm, the successful champion. This was accomplished, for 
 Arthur had not time to turn his bridle for flight, and resistance 
 would have been madness. ' 
 
 When brought before Ferrand, he raised his visOr, and said, 
 " Is it well, my lord, to make captive an adventurous knight, 
 for doing his devoir against a personal challenger ? " 
 
 " Do not complain. Sir Arthur of Oxford," said Ferrarid, 
 ^ " before vou experience injury — You are free, Sir Knight. 
 Your father and you were faithful to my royal aunt Margaret, 
 and although she was my enemy, I do justice to your fidelity 
 in her behalf ; and from respect to her memory, disinherited 
 as she was like myself, and to please- my grandfather, who I 
 think had some regard for you, I give you your freedom. But 
 I must also care for your safety during your return to the camp 
 of Burgundy. On tliis side of the hill we are loyal and. true- 
 hearted men, on the other, they are traitors and murderers. — ■ 
 You, Sir Count, will, I think, gladly see our captive placed in 
 safety." 
 
 The Knight to whom Ferrand addresse_d himself, a tall 
 ftately man, put himself in motion to attend on Arthur, while 
 She former was expressing to the young Duke of Lorraine the 
 tense he entertained of his chivalrous conduct. " Farewell, 
 isir Arthur de Vere," said Ferrand. '* You have slain a~ noble 
 
414 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 champion, and to me a most useful ancj faithful friend. But it 
 W9.S done nobly and openly, with equal arms, and in the front 
 of the line ; and evil befall him who entertains feud first ! " 
 Arthur bowed to his saddlebow. Ferrand returned the saluta- 
 tion, and they parted. 
 
 Arthur and his new companion had ridden b,iit a little way 
 up the ascent when the stranger spoke thus: — 
 
 " We have been fellow-travelers before, young man, yet you 
 remember me not." 
 
 Arthur turned his eyes on the cavalier, and observing that 
 the crest which adorned his helmet was fashioned like a vulture, 
 strange suspicions began to cross his -mind, which were con- 
 firmed, when the knight, opening his helmet, showed him the 
 dark and severe features of the Priest of Saint Paul's. 
 
 " Count Albert of Geierstein ! " said Arthur. 
 
 "The same," replied the Count, "though thou hast seen 
 him in other garb and headgear. But tyranny drives all men 
 to arms, and I have resuined, by the license and command of 
 my superiors, those which I had laid aside. A war against 
 cruelty and oppression is holy as that waged in Palestine, in 
 which priests bear armor." 
 
 " My Lord Count," said Arthur, eagerl)-, "I cannot too 
 soon entreat you to withdraw to Sir P'ei'rand of Lorraine's 
 squadron. Here you are in peril, where no strength or courage 
 can avail you. The Duke has placed a price on your head ; 
 and the country betwixt this and Nancy swarms with Stradiots 
 and Italian light horsemen." 
 
 " I laugh at them," answered the count. " I have not lived 
 so long in a stormy world, amid intrigues of war and policy, to 
 fall by the mean hand of such as they — besides, thou art with 
 me, and I have seen but now that thou canst bear thee 
 nobly." 
 
 " In your defence, my Lord," said Arthur, who thought of 
 his companion as the father of Anne of Geierstein, " I should 
 try to do my best." 
 
 " What, youth ! " replied Count Albert with a stern sneer, 
 that was peculiar to his countenance ; " wouldst thou aid the 
 enemy of the lord under whose banner thou servest, against his 
 waged soldiers ? " 
 
 Arthur was somewhat abashed at the turn given to his 
 ready offer of assistance, for which he had expected at le^st * 
 thanks; but he instantly collected himself, and replied, " My 
 Lord Count Albert, you have been pleased to put yourself in 
 peril to protect me from partisans of your party— I am equally 
 bound to defend you from those of our side." 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEim 415, 
 
 " It iS' happily answeted," said the Count; — "yet I tbihk 
 there is a little blind partisan, of whom, troubadours and mins- 
 trels talk, to whose instigation I might, ini case ,of need, owe 
 the great zeal of my protector." 
 
 He did not allow Arthur, Who was a good deai embarrassed, 
 time to reply, but proceeded : " Hear me, young, man — Thy. 
 lance has this day done an evil deed to Switzerland, to Berne, 
 and Duke Ferrand^ in slaying their bravest champion. But to 
 me, the death of Rudolph Donnerhugel is a welcome event. 
 Know that he was, as his services , grew more indispensable, 
 become importunate in requiring Duke Ferrand's interest with 
 me for my daughter's hand. And the Duke himself, the son 
 of a -princess, blushed not to ask me to bestow the last of my. 
 house — for my brother's family are degenerate mongrels— upon 
 a presumptuous young man, whose uncle was, a domestic in the 
 house of my wife's father, though they boasted some relation- 
 ship, I believe, through an illegitimate channel, which yonder 
 Rudolph was wont to make the most of, as it favored his 
 suit." 
 
 " Surely," said Arthur, "a match with one so unequal in 
 birth, and far more in every other respect, was too monstrous 
 to be mentioned ? " ■ '■ 
 
 "While I live," replied Count Albert, " never should, such 
 union have been formed, if the death both of bride and bride- 
 groom by my dagger could have saved the honor of my house 
 from violation. But when I — I whose days, whose very hpurs 
 are numbered — shall be no more, what could prevent an un- 
 daunted suitor, fortified by Duke Ferrand's favor, by the gen- 
 eral applause of his country, arid perhaps by the unfqrtunate 
 prepossession of my brother Arnold, from carrying his. point 
 against the resistance and scruples of a solitary maiden ? " 
 
 " Rudolph is dead," replied Arthur, " and may Heaven a^ 
 soilzie him frdm guilt ! But were he alive, and urging his suit 
 oh Anne of Geierstein, he would find there was, a combat to be 
 fought" I 
 
 "Which has been already decided," answered Count Albert. 
 "Now, mark mfe, Arthur de Vere !■ My daughter has told me 
 of the passages betwixt you and her. Your sentiments and 
 conduct, are worthy of the noble house you descend from, 
 which I well know ranks with the most illustrious in Europe. 
 You are indeed disinherited, but so is Anne of Geierstein, save 
 such pittance as her uncle may impart to her of her paternal 
 inheritknce. If you share it to^gether till better (iays (always 
 supposing your noble father gives his consent, for my child 
 shall enter no house against the will of its head), my daughter 
 
41 6 <<AWS OF GEIERSTKIN, 
 
 knows that she has my willing consent and my blessing. My 
 brother shall also know my pleasure. He will , approve, ray 
 ptitpoi^fl'; for though dead to thoughts of honor and chivalry, 
 he is alive to social feelings, loves his niece, and has friendship 
 for thee and for thy father. What say'st thou, young man, to 
 take a beggarly 'Countess to^id thee in the journey of life ? I 
 believe — nay, I prophesy (for 1 stand so much on the, edge of 
 the grave, that methinks I command a view beyond it) that a 
 lustre will one day, after I have long ended my doubtful and 
 stormy life, beam on the coronets of De Vere and Geier- 
 stein." 
 
 De Vere threw himself from his horse, clasped the hand of 
 Coiint Albert, and was about to exhaust himself in thanks ; but 
 the Count insisted on his silence. , 
 
 " We are about to part," he saidt " The time is short — the 
 place is dangerous. You are to me, personally speaking, less 
 than nothing. Had any one of the many schemes of ambition 
 which I have pursued led me to success, the son of a banished 
 Earl had not been the son-in-law I had chosen. Rise and 
 remount your horse — thanks are unpleasing when they, are not 
 merited." •, 
 
 Arthur arose, and, mounting his horse, threw his raptures 
 into a more acceptable form, endeavoring to describe how his 
 love for Anne, and efforts fot her happiness, should express his 
 gratitude to her father, and observing that the Count listened 
 with some pleasure to the picture he drew of their future life, 
 he could not help exclaiming — " And you, my lord — ^you who 
 have been the author of all this happiness, will you not be the 
 witness and partaker of it .' Believe me, we will strive to 
 soften the effect of the hard blows which fortune has dealt to 
 you, and should a ray of better luck shine upon us, it will be 
 the more welcome that you can share it." 
 
 " Forbear such folly," said the Count Albert of Geierstein. 
 " I know my last scene is approaching. — Hear and tremble. 
 The Duke of Burgundy is sentenced to die, and the secret and 
 Invisible Judges, who doom in secret, and avenge in secret, 
 like the Deity, have given the cord and the dagsrer to mv 
 hand!" 8*= , J- 
 
 " Oh, cast from you these vile symbols ! " exclaimed Arthur, 
 with enthusiasm ; " let them find butchers and common slab- 
 bers to do such an office, and not dishonor the noble Lord of 
 'Geierstein!"- 
 
 " Peace, foolish boy !" answered the Count. " The oath 
 by which I am sworn is higher than the clouded sky, more 
 deeply fixed than those distant mountains. Nor think my act 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 41 7 
 
 is that of an assassin, though for such I might plead the Duke's, 
 own example. I send not hirelings, like these base Stradiots, 
 to hunt his life, without imperiling mine own. . I give not his 
 his daughter — innocent of his offences — the choice bet^yixt a 
 disgraceful marriage and a discreditable retreat from the world. 
 No, Arthur de Vere, I seek Charles with the resolved mind^of 
 one, who, to take the life of an adversary, exposes himself to 
 certain death." 
 
 " I pray you speak no further of it," said Arthur, very 
 anxiously. " Consider I serve for the present the Prince whom 
 you threaten " — ■ — 
 
 "And art bound," interrupted the Count, " to unfold to him 
 what I tell you. I desire you should do so ; and though he 
 hath already neglected a summons of the Tribunal, I am glad 
 to have this opportunity of sending him personal defiance. Say 
 to Charles of Burgundy, that he has wronged Albert of 
 Geierstein. He who is injured in his honor loses all value for 
 his life, and whoever does so has full command over that of 
 another man. Bid him keep himself i well from me, since, if he 
 see a second sun of the approaching year rise over the distant 
 Alps, Albert of Geierstein is forsworn. — And now begone, for 
 I see a party approach under a Burgundian banner. They will 
 ensure your safety, but, should I remain loriger, would endan- 
 ger mine." 
 
 So sayings the Count of Geierstein turned his horse and 
 rode off. 
 
 CHAPTER THIRTY-SIXTH. 
 
 Faint the din of battle brayM 
 
 Distant down the heavy wind; 
 War and terror fled before, 
 
 Wounds and death were left behind. 
 
 MiCKLE. 
 
 Arthur, left alone, and desirous pdrhaps to cover the re- 
 treat of Count Albert, rode toward the approaching body of 
 Burgundian cavalry, who were arrayed under the Lord Contay's 
 banner. 
 
 " Welcome, welcome," said that nobleman, advancing hastily 
 to the young knight. " The Duke of Burgundy is a mile 
 henccj with a body of horse to support the reconnoitring party. 
 It is not 'half-an-hour since your father galloped, up, and stated 
 that you had been led into an ambuscade by the treachery of 
 
4i8 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 the Stradiots, and made prisoner. He has impeached Campo- 
 Basso of treason, and challenged him to the combat. They 
 have both been sent to the camp, under charge of the Grand- 
 Marshal, to prevent their fighting on the spot, thoug'h I think 
 3ur Italian showed little desire to come to blows. The Duke 
 holds their gages, and they are to fight upon Twelfth-Dayi" 
 
 " I doubt that day will never dawn for some who look for 
 it," said Arthur ; "but if it do, I will myself claim the combat, 
 by my father's permission." 
 
 He then turned with. Contay, and met a still larger body of 
 cavalry under the Duke's broad banner. He was instantly 
 brought before Charles. The Duke heard, with some apparent 
 anxiety, Arthur's support of his father's accusations against the 
 Italian, in whose favor he was so deeply prejudiced. When 
 assured that the Stradiots had been across the hiU, and com- 
 municated with their leader just before he encouraged Arthur to 
 advance, as it proved, into the midst of an ■ ambush, the Duka 
 shook his head, lowered his shaggy brows, and muttered, to him- 
 self, — " 111 Will to Oxford, perhaps — ^these Italians are vindi& 
 tive."' — Then, raising his head, he commanded Arthur to pro- 
 ceed. 
 
 He heard with a specie* of ecstasy the death of Rudolph 
 Dotitierhugeli and, taking a ponderous gold chain from his own 
 neck, flunig it over Arthur's. 
 
 ' " Why, thou hast forestalled all our honors, young Arthur 
 — this was the biggest bear of them all — the rest are but suck- 
 ling whelps to him ! I think I have found a youthful David to 
 match their huge thick-headed Goliath. But the idiot to think 
 his peasant hand could manage a lance ! Well, my brave boy 
 — what more t . How earnest thou off .'' By some wily device 
 or agile stratagem, I warrant." 
 
 " Pardon me, my lord," answered Arthur. " I was pro- 
 tected by their chief- Ferrand, who considered ray encounter 
 with Rudolph Donnerhugel as a personal duel ; and, desirous 
 to use fair.- war, as he said, dismissed me honorably, with my 
 horse and arms." 
 
 "Umpk)! '^ said Charles, his bad humor returning; "your 
 Prince Adventurer must play the generous — Umph — well, it be- 
 longs to his part, but shall not be a line for me to square my 
 conduct by. Proceed with your story, Sir Arthur de Vere." 
 
 As Arthur proceeded t® tell how and under what circum- 
 stances Count Albert of Geierstein nanjed himself to him, the 
 Duke fixed on him an eager look, and trembled with impatience 
 as he fiercely interrupted Him with the question — "And you ■ 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 419 
 
 you stntek him with your poniard under the fifth rib, did you 
 not ? " 
 
 " I did not, my Lord Duke- — we were pledged in mutual 
 assurance to each other." 
 
 " Yet you knew him to be my mortal enemy?" said the 
 Duke. " Go, young man, thy lukewarm indifference has can- 
 celed thy merit. The escape, of Albert of Geierstein hath 
 counterbalanced the death of Rudolph DonnerhugeL" 
 
 " Be it so, my lord," said Arthur, boldly. "I neither claim 
 your praises, ntsr deprecate your censure. , I had to move me 
 in either case motives personal to myself. — Donnerhugel was 
 my enemy, and to Count Albert 1 owe some Icindness." 
 
 The Burgundian nobles who stood around: were terrified for 
 the effect of this bold speech. - But it; was never possible to 
 guess with accuracy how such things would affect Charles. He 
 looked around him with a Jaugh— " Hear you this English 
 cockerel, my lords — what a note will he one day sound, that 
 already crows so bravely in a Prince presence ! " 
 
 A lew horsemen now came in from different quarters, re- 
 counting that the Duke Ferrand and his company had retired 
 into their encampment, and the country was clear of the enemy. 
 
 " Let us then draw back also," said Charles, " since there is 
 no chance of breaking spears to-day. And thou, Arthur de 
 Vere, attend me closely." 
 
 Arrived at the Duke's pavilion, Arthur underwent an exam- 
 ination, in which he said nothing of Anne of Geiersteim, or her 
 rfather's designs concerning him, with which -he considered 
 -Charles' as having nothing to do ; but he frankly conveyed to 
 him the personal threats which the Count Jiad openly used. 
 The Duke listened with more temper, and when he heard the 
 expression, " That a man who is desperate of his own life might 
 command that of any other person," he said, ^ Bat there is a 
 life beyond this, in which he who is treacherously' murdered, 
 and his base and desperate assassin, shall each meet their 
 deserts." He then took from his bosom a gold cross, and 
 kissed it, with mudi ^pearance of devotion. "In this," said 
 he, " I will place my trust. If I fail in this worMj may I find 
 grace in the neS:t-*-Ho, Sir Marshal ! " he exclaimed — " Let 
 your prisoners attend us." 
 
 The Marshal of Burgundy entered with the Earl of Oxford, 
 and stated that his other prisoner, Cannpo-Easso, had desired 
 so earnestly that he might be suffered to go and postiis senti- 
 nels on that part of the camp intrusted to the protection of his 
 troops, shat he, the Marshal,;had thought fit to cjom!^ with his 
 reauest. / 
 
420 
 
 ANNE OF GEIBRSTEIN. 
 
 " It is well," said Burgutidy-j without further remark—" Then 
 to you, my Lord Oxford, I would present your son, had you not 
 already locked him in your arms. He has won great /ossind 
 honor, and done m-e brave service. This is a period of the 
 year when good men forgive their enemies ; — I know not why 
 — my mind waS' little apt to be charged with such matters — but 
 I feel an unconquerable desire to stop the approaching combat 
 betwixt you and Campo-Basso. For my sake, consent to be 
 friends, and to receive back your gage of battle, and let me 
 conclude this year — perhaps the last I may see — with a deed 
 of peace." 
 
 " My lord," said Oxford, " it is a small thing you ask of 
 n.e, since your request only enforces a Christian duty. I was 
 enraged at the loss of my son. I am grateful to Heaven and 
 your Grace for restoring him. To be friends with Campo-Basso 
 is to me impossible. Faith and treason, truth and falsehood, 
 might as soon shake hands and embrace. But the Italian shall 
 be to me no more than he has been before this rupture ; and 
 that is literally' nothing. I put my honor in your Grace's 
 hands ;---if he receives back his gage, I am willing, to receive 
 mine. John de Vere needs not be apprehensive that the world 
 will suppose that he fears Campo-Basso." 
 
 The Duke returned sincere thanks, and detained the officers 
 to spend the evening in his tent. His manners seemed to 
 Arthur to be more placid than he had ever seen them before, 
 while to the Earl of Oxford they recalled the earlier days in 
 which their intimacy commenced, ere absolute power and un- 
 bounded success had spoiled Charles's rough but not Uugen^ 
 erous disposition. The Duke ordered a distribution of pro- 
 visions and wine to the soldiers, and expressed an anxiety 
 about their lodgings, the cure of the wounded, and the health 
 of the- army, to which 'he received only unpleasing answers. 
 To some of his counselors, apart, he said, " Were it not for 
 our vow, we would relinquish this purpose till spring, when our 
 poor soldiers might take the field with less of suffering." 
 
 Nothing else remarkable appeared in the Duke's manner, 
 save that he inquired repeatedly after Campo-Basso, and at 
 length received accounts that he was indisposed, and that his 
 physician had recommended rest ; he had therefore retired to 
 repose himself, in order, that he might be stirringon his duty at 
 peep of day, the safety of the camp depending much on his 
 vigilance. ,, 
 
 : The Duke made no observation on the apology, : which he 
 considered as indicating some lurking disinclination, on the 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 421 
 
 Italian's part, to meet Oxford. The guests at the ducal pavilion 
 were dismissed an hour before midnight. 1 
 
 When Oxford and his son were in their own tent, the Earl 
 fell into a deep reverie, which lasted nearly ten minutes. At 
 length, starting suddenly up, he said, " My son, giye orders to 
 Thiebault and thy yeoman to have our horses befqre the tent 
 by break of day, or rather before it ; and it would not be amiss 
 if you ask our neighbor Colvin to ride along with us. I will 
 visit the outposts by daybreak." 
 
 " It is a sudden resolution, my lord," said Arthur. 
 
 " And yet it' may be taken too late," said his father. " Had 
 it been moonlight, I would have made the rounds to-night." 
 
 "It is as dark as a wolf's throat," said Arthur. "But 
 wherefore, my lord, can this night in particular, excite your 
 apprehensions ? " 
 
 "Son Arthur, perhaps you will hold your father credulous. 
 But my nurse, Martha Nixon, was a northern woman, and full 
 of superstitions. In particular, she was wont to say, that any 
 sudden and causeless change of a man's nature, as from license 
 to sobriety, from temperance to indulgence,, from avarice to 
 extravagance, from prodigality to love of money, or the like, 
 indicates an immediate ehatige of his fortunes — that some great 
 alteration of circumstances, either for good' or evil (and for evil 
 most likely, since we live in an evil world), is impending over 
 him whose disposition is so much altered. This old woman's 
 fancy has recurred so strongly to my mind, that I am determined 
 to see with mine own eyes, ere to- morrow's, dawn, that all our 
 guards and patrols around the camp are^on the alert." 
 
 Arthur made the necessary communications to Colvin, and 
 to Thiebault, and then; retired to rest.' 
 
 It was ere daybreak of the first of January, 1477, a period 
 long memorable for the events which marked it, tha,t the Earl 
 of Oxford, Colvin, and the young Englishman, followed only 
 by Thiebault and two other servants, commenced their rounds 
 of the Duke of Burgundy's encampment. For the greater part 
 of their progress they found sentinels and guards all on the 
 alert and at their posts. It was a bitter morning. The ground 
 was partly covered with snow, — that snow had been partly 
 melted by a thaw, which hdd prevailed fortwodays, and partly 
 congealed into ice by a bitter frost, which had commenced the 
 preceding evening, and still continued. A more dreary scene 
 could scarcely be witnessed. 
 
 But what were the surprise and alarm of the Earl of Oxford 
 and his companions, when they came to that part of the camp 
 which had been occupied the day before by Campo-Basso and 
 
42 2 
 
 AI^NE OF GEIBRSTEIN. 
 
 his Italians, who; reckoning men-at-arms and Sttadiots, amouni);- 
 ed to nigh two thousand' men — ►not a challenge was given— not a 
 horse neighed — no steeds were' seen at picket — no guard on 
 the camp. They examined Setveral of the tents and huts^they 
 were empty. 
 
 "Let us back to alsttm the camp," said the Earl of Oxford'; 
 " here is treachery." * 
 
 " Nay, rtiy lord," said Colvin, " let lis- not carry back imper- 
 fect tidings. I have a battery an hundred yards iii advance, 
 covering tliie acbeSs to this hollow way ; let ms see if my German 
 Caiinoniers are at- their post, Jlnd I think I can swear that we 
 shall find them so. Tile battery eommsMids a narrow pass, by 
 which alone thd catnp can be approached ; and if my men are 
 at their duty, I will p&wa my life that we make the pass good 
 till you bring up succors from the main body." 
 
 " Fbtwa^; then, in GoH's rtame! " said the Earl of Oxford. , 
 
 They gallo^ped, at etgry-i?isk, over broken ground, slippery 
 with ice in some places, encumbered with snow in others. 
 They came to the caflnon, judiciously placed to sweep the pass,' 
 which rose toward the artillfefy on the outward side, and then 
 descended gently froth the battery into the lower ground. The 
 waning winter moon, mingling with the dawning light, showed 
 them that the guns were in their places, but bo seastinel was 
 visible. 
 
 " The villains cannot have deserted !"' said the astonished 
 Colvin — " But see, there is light in their cantonment. — Oh, 
 that unhallowed distribution of wine ! Their usual sin of 
 drunkenness has besqt them. I will soon drive them from 
 their revelry." 
 
 He sprung from his horse, and rushed into the tent from 
 whence the light issued. Thecannoniers, or most of them, were 
 still there, but stretched on the ground, tbeir cups and flagons 
 scattered around them ; and so dreriehied were they in wassail, 
 that Colvin could only by commands and iHf eats, awaken two 
 or three, who, staggering and obeying him rather from instinct 
 than Sense, reeled forward to man the battery. A heavy rush- 
 ing sound, like that of men marching fast, now was heard com- 
 ing up the pass. 
 
 " it is the roar of a distant avalanche," said Arthur. 
 
 " It is an avalanche of Switzers, not of snow," said Colvin. 
 — "OU, these drunken slaved !^-The cannon are deeply loaded, 
 and well pointed — -this volley must check them if they were 
 fiends and the report will' alarm the cam-p sooner than we can 
 do. — But, oh, these drunken villains! " 
 
AMNM OF GEIERSTEnv. 
 
 423 
 
 " Care notforitheir aid," said the Earl ; •' my son and I will 
 each take a linstock, and be .gujjners for once." , 
 
 They dismoitnted, and hade Thiebault and the grooms look 
 to the horses, while the Earl of Oxford and his son took each a 
 linstock from one of the helpless gunners, three of svbom were 
 just sober enough to stand by their guns. 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried the bold Master of Ordnance, " never was 
 a battery so noble. Now, iny mates — your pardon, my lords, 
 for there is no time for ceremony, and .you,ye drunken knaves, 
 take heed- not to fire till I give the word,, and: were the libs of 
 these. tramplers as flinty as their Alps, they shall know how old 
 Colvin loads his gtins." 
 
 They stood breathless, each by his cannon. The dreaded 
 sound approached nearer and more near, till the imperfect light 
 showed a dark and shadowy but dense goluinn of men, armed 
 with long spears, pole-ajces, and other weapons, amidst whiph 
 banners dimly floated. Colvin suffered them to approach to 
 a distance of about forty yards, and then gave the word. Fire ! 
 But his own piece alone exploded ; a slight flame flashed from 
 the toudh^hole of the others, which had beeen spiked by the 
 Italian deserters, and left in reality disabled, though apparently 
 fit for service. Had they been all in the same condition with 
 that fired by Colvin, they would probably have verified his pro- 
 phecy ; for even that single discharge produced an awful' effect, 
 and made a long laile of dead and wounded thnough the Swiss 
 column, in which the first and leading banner was struck down. 
 
 ." Stand to it yet," said Colvin, "and aid me if possible to 
 reload the piece." 
 
 For this, however, no time was allowed. A stately form, 
 conspicuous in the front of the staggered column, raised up the 
 fallen banner^ and a voice as of a giant exclaimed, "What, 
 countrymen ! have you seen Murten. and .Granson, and are 
 you daunted by a single guh ? — Berne— Uri — Schwytz — banners 
 forward!' Unterwalden, here is your standard! — Cry your 
 war-cries, wind your horns ; Unterwalden, follow your Lan- 
 damman ! " 
 
 They rushed on like a raging ocean, with a roar as deaf- 
 ning, and acourse as impetuous. Colvin, still laboring :to reload 
 his gun, was struck down in the act; Oxford and his son were 
 overthrown by the multitude, the closemess of which prevented 
 any blows being aimed at them. Arthur partly saved himself 
 by getting under the gun he was posted at ; his father, less for- 
 tunate, was much trampled upon, and must have been crushed 
 to death but for his armor of proof. The human inundation, 
 consisting dL at least four thpUsand men, rushed down into the 
 
424 ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 camp, continuing their dreadful shouts, soon mingled with shrill 
 shrieks, groans, and cries of al^m. 
 
 A broad red glare rising behind the assailants, and putting 
 to shame the pallid lights of the winter morning, first recalled 
 Arthur to a sense of his condition. The camp was on fire in 
 his rear, a.nd resounded with all the various shouts of conquest 
 and terror that are heard in a town which is stormed. Starting 
 to his feet, he looked around him for his father. He lay near 
 him senseless, as were the:gunners, whose, condition prevented 
 their attempting an escape. H aving opened his father's casque, 
 he was rejoiced to see him give symptoms of re-animation. 
 
 " The horses, the horses ! " said Arthur. " Thiebault, where 
 art thou ? " 
 
 "At hand, my lord," said- that trusty attendant, who had 
 saved himself and his, charge by a prudent retreat into a small 
 thicket, which the assailants had avoided that they* might not 
 disorder their ranks. 
 
 "Where is the gallant Colvin ? " said the Earl ; "get him a 
 horse, I will not leave him in jeopardy." 
 
 " His wars are ended, my lord," said Thiebault ; " he will 
 never mount steed more." 
 
 A look and a sigh as he saw Golvin, with the ramrod in his 
 hand, before the muzzle of the piece, his head cleft by a Swiss 
 battle-axe, was all the moment permitted. 
 
 " Whither must we take our course ? " said Arthur to his 
 father. 
 
 " To join the Duke," said the Earl, of Oxford. It is not on 
 a day like this that I will leave him." 
 
 " So please you," said Thiebault, " I saw the Duke, followed 
 by some half-score of his guards, riding at full speed across this 
 hollow water-course, and making for the open country to the 
 northward. I think I can guide you on the tracik." 
 
 " If that be so," replied Oxford, I'f we will mount and follow 
 him. The camp has been assailed on several places at once, 
 and all must be over since he has fled." i. 
 
 With difficulty they assisted the Earl of Oxford to his horse, 
 and rode , as fast as his returning strength permitted, in the 
 direction which the Provengal pointed out. Their other attend- 
 ants were dispersed or slain. 
 
 They looked back more than once on the camp, now one 
 great scene of conflagration, by whose red and glaring light 
 they could discover on the ground the traces of Charles's re- 
 treat. About three miles from the scene of their defeat, the 
 sound of which they still heard; mingled withthe bells of Nancy, 
 which were ringing in triumph, they reached a half-frozen 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 42 s 
 
 swamp, round which lay several dead bodies. The most coiir 
 spicuous was that of Charles of Burgundy, once the possessor 
 of such unlimited power — such unbounded wealth. He was 
 partly stripped and plundered, as were those who lay round 
 him. His body was pierced with several wounds, inflicted by 
 various weapons. His sword was still in his hand, and the sin- 
 gular ferocity which was wont to animate his features in battle, 
 still dwelt on his stifiEened countenance. Close behind him, as if 
 they had fallen in the act of mutual fight, lay the corpse of Count 
 • Albert of Geierstein ; and that of ItalSchreckenwald, the faitji- 
 ful though unscrupulous follower of the latter, lay not far dis- 
 tant. Both were in the dress of the men-at-arms composing the 
 Duke's guard, a disguise probably assumed to execute the fatal 
 commission of the Secret' Tribunal. It is supposed that a party 
 of the traitor Campo-Basso's men had been engaged in the 
 skirmish in which the. Duke fell, for six or seven of them, and 
 about the same number of the Duke's guards, were found near 
 the spot. 
 
 The Earl of Oxford threw himself from his horse, and 
 examined the body of his deceased brother-in-arms, with all 
 the sorrow inspired by early remembrance of his kindness. 
 But as he gave way to the feelings inspired by so melancholy 
 an example of the fall of human greatness, Thiebault, who was 
 looking out on the path they had just pursued, exclaimed, "To 
 horse, my lord! here is no time to mourn the dead, and little 
 to save the livings— the" Swiss are upOn;us." 
 
 " Fly thyself, good fellow," said the; Earl; "and do thou, 
 Arthur, fly also, and save thy youth for happier days. I cannot 
 and will not fly further. I will render me to the pursuers; if 
 they take me to grace, it is well ; if not, there is one above 
 that will receive me to His." 
 
 " I will not fly," said Arthur, " and leave you defenceless ; 
 I will stay and shaTe.yoUr fate." 
 
 " And I will remain also," said Thiebault ; " the Switzers 
 make fair war when their blood has not been heated by much 
 opposition, and they have had little enough to-day." 
 
 The party of Swiss, which came up proved, to be Sigismund, 
 with his brother Ernest, and some of the youths of Unter^ 
 walden. Sigismund kindly and Joyfully received them to 
 rriercy ; and thus, for the third time, rendered Arthur an im- 
 portant service in return for the kindness he had expressed 
 toward him. - ; 
 
 " I will take you to my father,'' said Sigismund, " who will 
 be right glad to see you ; only that he is ill at ease just now 
 for the death of brother Rudiffer. who fell with the banner in 
 
426 ANNE OF GEIEKSTEIN. 
 
 his hand, Dy the only cannon that was fired this morning ; the 
 rest could not bark; Campo-Basso had muzzled Colvin's 
 mastiffs, or we should many more of us have been served like 
 poor Rudiger. But Colvin himself is killed." 
 
 " Campo-Basso, then, was in your correspomdence ? " said 
 Arthur. 
 
 " Not in ours^ — we scorn such companions — but some deal- 
 ing there was between the Italian and Duke Ferrand ; and 
 having disabled the cannon, and filled the German gunners 
 soundly drunk, he came off to our camp: with fifteen hundred 
 horse, and offered to act with us. But 'No, no!' said my 
 father; ' traitors come not into our Swiss hast ;' and so, though 
 we walked in at the door which he left open, we would not 
 have his company. So he. marched with Duke Ferrand to 
 attack the other extremity of the camp, where he found them 
 entrance by announcing them as the return of a reconnoitring 
 party." 
 
 " Nay, then," said Arthur, " a more accomplished traitor 
 never drew- breath, nor one who drew Iiis net with such 
 success." 
 
 " You say well," answered the young Swiss. " Tlie Duke 
 will never, they say, be able to collect another army ? " 
 
 "Never, young man," said the Earl of Oxford, "for he lies 
 dead before you." * 
 
 Sigismund started,; for he had an inherent respect, and 
 somewhat of fear, for the lofty name of Charles the Bold, and 
 could hardly ■ believe that the mangled corjjse which now lay 
 before him- was once the ■ personage he had been taught to 
 dread. But his surprise was mingled with sorrow when he saw 
 the body of bis uncle. Count Albert of Geierstein. 
 
 "Oh, my uncle! "he said — "my dear uncle Albert! has 
 all your greatness and your wisdom brought you to a death, at 
 the side of a ditch, like any crazed beggaa; ? — Come, this sad 
 news must be presently told to my father, who will be con- 
 cerned to hear of his brother's death, which will add gall to 
 bitterness, coming on the back of poor Rudig^r's. It is some 
 comfort, however, that father and uncle never could abide each 
 other." 
 
 With some difficulty they once mOre assisted ^the. Earl of 
 Oxford to horseback, and were proceeding to set forward, 
 when the English lord said— "You will place a guard here, to 
 save these bodies from further dishonor, that they may be' in- 
 terred with due solemnity." 
 
 * Note F. Charles the Bold. 
 
ANNE OF GEIBRSTEIN. 427 
 
 " By our Lady of Einsiedlen ! I thank' you for the hint," 
 said Sigismund. "Yes, we should do all that the Church can 
 for uncle Albert. It is to be hoped he has not gambled away 
 his soul beforehand, playing with Satan at odds and evetis. \. 
 would we had a priest Lo stay by bis poor body ; but it matters 
 not, since no one ever heard of a demon appearing just before 
 breakfast." 
 
 They proceeded to the Latidamman's quarters through 
 sights and scenes wliich Arthur, and even his father, so well 
 accustomed to war iw all its shapes, could not look upon 
 without shuddering. But the simple Sigismund, as lie walked 
 by Arthur's side, contrived to hit upon a theme so interesting 
 as to divert his sense of the horrors around them. 
 
 " Have you further business in Burgundy, now this Duke of 
 yours is at an end ? " 
 
 " My father knows best," said Arthur ; "but I apprehend 
 we have none. The Duchess of Burgundy, who must now suc- 
 ceed to some sort of authority in her late husband's dominion, 
 is sister to this Edward of York, and a mortal enemy to the 
 House of Lancaster, and to those who have stood by it faith- 
 fully. It were neither prudent nor safe to tarry where she has 
 influence." • ; 
 
 " In that case," said Sigismund, " my plan will fadge 
 bravely. You shall go back to Geierstein, and take up your 
 dwelling with us. Your father will be a brother to mine, and 
 a better, one than uncle Albert, whom he seldom saw or spok^ 
 with ; while with your father he will converse from morning till 
 night, and leave us all the work of the farm. And you, Arthur,, 
 you shall go with us; and be a brjother to us all, in place of 
 poor Rudager, who was,, to be sure^ my real brother, which you 
 cannot be : nevertheless, I did not like him so well, in respect 
 he was not so good-natured. And! then Anne^cousin Anne — 
 is left all to my father's charge, anel is now at Geierstein — and 
 you know, King Arthur, we used to call her Queen Guenover." 
 
 " You spoke great folly, then," said Arthur. 
 
 "But it is great truth — For, look you, I loved' to tell Anne 
 tales of our hunting,, and so forth, but she would not listen a 
 word till I. threw in something of King. Arthur, and then I 
 warrant she 1 would sit still as a heath-hen when the hawk, is in 
 the heavens. And now Donnerhugel -is slain, you know you 
 may marry my cousin when you, and she will, for nobody hath 
 interest to prevent it." 
 
 Arthur blushed with pleasure under his helmet, and almost 
 forgave that new-year's morning all its complicated distresses. 
 
 " You forget," he replied 'to Sigismund, with as much in- 
 
428 ANNE OF CEIERSTEIN. 
 
 difference as he could assume, " that I may be viewed in your 
 country with prejudice on account of Rudolph's death." 
 
 " Not a whit, not a whit ; we bear no malice for what is 
 done in fair fight under shield. It is no more than if you had 
 beat him in wrestling or at quoits — only it is a game cannot be 
 played over again." i 
 
 They now entered the town of Nancy ; the windows were 
 hung with tapestry, and the streets crowded with tumultuous 
 and rejoicing multitudes, whom the success of the battle had 
 relieved from great alarm for the formidable vengeance of 
 Charles of Burgundy. 
 
 The prisoners were received with the utmost kindness by! 
 the Landamman, who assoted them of his protection and friend- 
 ships He atppeared to support the death of his son Rudiger 
 with stern resignation. 
 
 " He had rather," he said, " his son fell in battle than that 
 he should live to despise the old simplicity of his country, and 
 think the object of combat was the gaining of spoil. The gold 
 of the dead Burgundy," he added, "would injure the morals of 
 Switzerland more irretrievably than ever his sword did their 
 bodies." 
 
 He heard of his brother's death without surprise, but ap- 
 parently with emotion. 
 
 " It was the conclusion," he said, "of a long tissue of am- 
 bitious enterprises, which often offered fair prospects, but 
 uniformly ended in disappointment." 
 
 The Landamman further intimated, that his brother had 
 apprized him that he was engaged in an affair of so much 
 danger that he was almost certain to perish in it, and had 
 bequeathed his daughter to her uncle's care, witli instruc- 
 tions respecting her. 
 
 Here they parted for the present, but shortly after, the 
 Landamman inquired earnestly of the Earl of Oxford what his 
 motions were like to be, and whether he could assist them. 
 
 " I th^pk of choosing Bretagne for my place of refuge," 
 answered the Earl, "where my wife has dwelt, since the battle 
 of Tewkesbury expelled us from England." 
 
 " Do not SO," said the kind Landamman, " but come to 
 Geierstein with the Countess, where, if she can, like you, en- 
 dure our mountain manners and mountain fare, you are welcome 
 as to the house of a brother, to a soil where neither conspiracy 
 nor treason ever flourished. Bethink you, the Duke of Bretatrne 
 is a weak prince, entirely governed by a wicked favorite, Peter 
 Landais. He is as capable — I mean the minister — of selling 
 brave men's blood, as a butcher of selling bullock's flesh ; and 
 
ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 429 
 
 you know, there are those, both in France and Burgundy, that 
 thirst after yours." 
 
 The Earl of Oxford expressed his thanks for the proposal, 
 and his determination to profit by it, if approved of by Henry 
 of Lancaster, Earl of Richmond, whom Itfe now regarded as 
 his sovereign. 
 
 To close the tale, about three months after the battle of 
 Nancy, the banished Earl of Oxford resumed his name of 
 Philipson, bringing with his lady some remnants of their former 
 wealth, which enabled them to procure a commodious residence 
 near to Geierstein ; and the Landamman's interest in the state 
 procured for them the right of denizenship. The high blood, 
 and the moderate fortunes, of Anne of Geierstein and Arthur 
 de Vere, joined to their mutual incliiiation, made thpir marriage 
 in every respect rational ; and Annette with her bachelor took 
 up their residence with the young people,not as servants, but 
 mechanical aids iii the duties of the farm ; for Arthur con- 
 tinued to prefer the chase to the labors of husbandry, which 
 was of little consequence, as his separate income amounted, in 
 that poor country, to opulence. Time glided on, till it amounted 
 to five years since the exiled family had been inhabitants of 
 Switzerland. In the year 1482, the Lahdamman Biederman 
 died the death of the righteous, lamented universally, as a 
 model of the true and valiant, simple-minded and sagacious 
 chiefs, who ruled the ancient Switzers in peace, and headed 
 them in battle. In the same year, the Earl of Oxford lost his 
 noble Countess. 
 
 But the star of Lancaster, at that period, began again to 
 culminate, and called the banished lord and his son from their 
 retirement, to mix once more in politics. The treasured neck- 
 lace of Margaret was then put to its destined use, and the 
 produce applied to levy those bands which shortly after fought 
 the celebrated battle of Bosworth, in which the arms of Oxford 
 and his son contributed so much to the success of Henry VII. 
 This changed the destinies of De Vere and his lady. Their 
 Swiss farm was conferred on Annette and her husband ; and 
 the manners and beauty of Anne of Geierstein attracted as 
 much admiration at the English Court as foi-merly in the Swiss 
 Chalet. 
 
NOTES TO ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Note A, p. xii. — Remarks on the Novel. 
 
 [Anne of Geierstein, which appeared in May 1829, may be almost called 
 the last work of Scott's imaginative genius, and was received at least as well 
 as the Fair Maid of Perth, or indeed as any novel of his, after the Crusa- 
 ders. Its pages display in undimiivshed perfection all the skill and grace of 
 the mere artist, with occasional outbreaks of the old poetic spirit. Indeed, 
 the various play of taticy in the combination of persons and events, and the 
 airy liveliness of both imagery and diction, may well justify us in applying 
 to the Author what, he beautifully ^iys of his King Rend — 
 
 " A mirthful man he was ; the snows of age 
 Fell, but they did not chill him." — Chap. xxix. 
 
 It is a common saying that there js nothing so distinctive of genius as 
 the, retention, in advanced years, of the capacity to depict the feelings of 
 youth with all their original glow and purity. But I apprehend this blessed 
 distinction belongs to, and is the just reward, of virtuous genius only. 
 . . . . Perhaps Scott has nowhere painted such feelings more delici- 
 ously than in those very scenes of Anne of Geierstein, which, offers every 
 now and then, in some incidental circumstance or reflection, the best evi- 
 dence that they are Brawn by a gray-headed man. — J. G. Lockhart.] 
 
 Note B, p. i6i.i— German Dungeon. 
 
 [In tonnection with the desdription pf this dungeon, it may be stated 
 that'the Author, in composing this novel, derived considerable assistance 
 from a journal of foreign travpl, tbe work of his intimate friend the late 
 James Skene of Rubislaw. It is also curious to observe, that in the Arcli- 
 aahgia Scolica, 1S23, vol. iii. p. 17, there appears an account by Mr. 
 Skene of a " suite of apartments, excavated from the rocks on which the 
 castle of Baden, in^ Swabia, stands,, supposed to have been connected with 
 the jurisdiction of the Secret Tribunal in that country."] 
 
 Note C, p. 184. — Public Executioner. 
 
 There is abundant evidence that, in the middle ages, the office of public 
 executioner was esteemed highly honorable all over Germany. It still is 
 in such parts of that country as retain the old custom of execution by stroke 
 of sword, very far from being held discreditable to the extent to which we 
 carry our feelings on the subject, and which exposed the magistrates of a 
 
/fOTES. 
 
 431 
 
 Scotch town,— I rather thuik no less a one than Glasgow,^to a good deal 
 of ridicule, when they advertised^ some few years ago, on occasion of the 
 death of their hangman, that " none but persons of respectable character" 
 need apply for the vacant situation . At this day, in China, in Persia, and 
 probably in other Oriental kingdoms, the Chief Executioner is one of the 
 great officers of state, and is as proud of the emblem of his fatal duly as 
 any European Lord Chamberlain of his Golden Key. 
 
 The circumstances of the strange trial and execution of the Knight of 
 Hagenbach are detailed minutely by M. de Barante, from contemporary 
 MS. documents; and the reader will be gratified by a specimen ol that 
 writer's narrative. A translation is also given for the benefit ^ of many of 
 my kind readers. * 
 
 " De toutes parts on etait accourus par milliers pour assister an procfes 
 de ce cruel gouverneur, tant la haine etait grande contre lui. Desa prison, 
 il entendait retentir sur le pont le pas des chevaux, et s'enquferait ^ son 
 ge6Iier de ceux qui arrivaient: soit pbur Stre ses juges, soit pour Stre 
 femoins do son supplice. Parfois le ge61ier repondait, ' Ce sont des etran- 
 gers; je ne las ^connais pas.' ' Ne spnt-ce pas,' disait le prisonnier, ' des 
 gens assez mal vetus, de haute taille, de forte apparence, montes sur des 
 ehevaux aux courtes oreilles?' et si le ge61ier repondait : 'Qui.' — ' Ah ce 
 sont les Suisses,' s'dcriait Hagenbach ; ' Mon Ilieu ayez pitie de moi ! ' et il se 
 rappdait toutes les insultes qu'il leur avait faites, toutes ses insolences en- 
 vers eux. II pensait, mais trop tard, que c'etait leur alliance avec lamaison 
 d'Autriche qui etait cause de sa perte. Le 4 Mai, 1474, aprfes avoir ^te mis 
 ^ la question, il fut, i la diligence d' Hermann d'Eptingen, gouverneur pour 
 I'archiduc, amene devant ses juges, sur la place publique de Brisach. Sa 
 eontenance ^tait ferme et d'un homme, qui ne craint pas le mort. Henri 
 Iselin de B8,le porta la parole au nom d'Hermann d'Eptingen, agissant pour 
 le seigneur du pays. II parla ipeu prfes ences termes : ' Pierre de Hagen- 
 bach, chevalier, maitre d'hStel de Monseigneur le Due de Bourgogne, et 
 son gouverneur dans le pays de Sferatte et Haute Alsace, aurait du respecter 
 les privileges reserves par I'acte d'engagement ; mais il n'a pas moins frott^ 
 aux pieds les lois de Dieu et des hommes, que les droits jur& et garantis au 
 pays. II a faitmettre a mort sans jugement quatre'honnetes bourgeois de 
 Seratte J il a depouiUd la yille de Brisach de sa jurisdiction, et yaetabli 
 juges et consuls de son choix ; il a rompu et disperse les communautfe de 
 la bourgeoisie et des metiers; il a lev^ des impSts par sa seule volontS; 
 il a, contre toutes les lois, loge chez les habitans des gens de guerrev — Lom- 
 bards, Franijais, Picards, ou Flamands ; et a favorisfi leur d^sordres et pil- 
 lages. II leiir a mSme commande d'egorger leurs h&tes durant la nuit, et 
 a*ait fait preparer, pour y embarquer les femmes et les enfans; des bateaux 
 qui devaient 6tre Submerge dans le Rhin. Enfin lors mSme qu'il rejette- 
 lait de telles cruautes sur les ordres qu'il a re9us, comment pourrait il s'ex- 
 cuser d'avoir fait violence et outrage a I'honneur de tant de flfles et femmes 
 et raeme de saintes rejigieuses ? ' 
 
 " D'autres aocasations furent portees dans les interrogatoires; et des 
 temoins attestSrent les violences faites aux gens de Mulhausen et aux mar- 
 chands de Bale. 
 
 " Pour suivre toutes les formes de la justice, on evait donne un avocat 
 i I'accuse. '' Messire Pierre de Hagenbach,' dit-il, 'ne reconnait d'autre 
 juge et d'autre seigneur que Monseigneur le Due de Bourgogne, dont il 
 avait commission, et recevait les commandemens. II n'avait nul droit de 
 eontrdier les ordres qu'il etait charg^ d'executor ; et son devoir etait d'ob^ir. 
 Ne sait-on pas quelle soumission les gens de guerre doivent k leur Seigneur 
 etmaltrcv.' Croit-on que, IS' landvogt de Monseigneur le Due eflt 4 lui re- 
 montrer et a lui r&ister i" Et monseigneur n'a-t-il pas ensuite, par sa pr^- 
 
432 NOTES. 
 
 sence, confirm^ et ratifi^ tout ce qui avait it4: fait en son nom ? Si des 
 impdts out 6te demandes, c'est qu'il avait besoin d'argent. Four les recue- 
 illir il a bien fallu punir ceux qui se refusaient ^ payer, C'est ce que Mon- 
 seigneur le Due, et m6me I'empereur, quand ils sent venus, ont reconnu 
 n^cessaire. Le logement des gens de guerre etait aussi la suite des ordres 
 du Due, .Quant a la jurisdiction de Brisach; lelandvogt pouvait-il soufErir 
 cette resistance ? Enfin, dans une affaire si grave, ou il y. va de la vie, con- 
 vient-il de produire comme un veritable grief, la dernier dont a parle I'ac- 
 cusateur ? Parmi ceux qui ecoutenf, y en a-t-il un seul qui puisse se vanter 
 de ne pas avoir saisi les occasions de se divertir ? N'est-il pas clair que 
 Messire de Hagenbach a seulement profite dela bonne volontfe de quelques 
 femmes ou filles ; ou, pour rnettre les choses au pis, qu'il n'a exerc4 d'autre 
 contrainte envers elles qu'au moyen de son bon argent ? ' 
 
 " Les juges sidgerent-long temps sur leur tribunal. Douze heures en- 
 tiferes passerent «ans que 1' affaire fut terminee. Le sire de Hagenbach, 
 toujours ferme et calme, n'alMgua d'autres de'fenses, d'autres excuses, que 
 celles qu'il avait donri^' deji sous la torture — les ordres et la vblont^ de 
 son seigneur, qui ^tait son seul juge, et le seul, qui pflt lui demander 
 compte. 
 
 " Enfin. ^ sept heures du soir, a la clart^ des flambeaux, les juges, apres 
 avoir diSclai^ qu'i eux appartenait le droit de prononcer sur les crimes 
 imputes au landvogt, le firent rappeler; et rendirent leur sentence qui le 
 condamna a mort. II ne s'^meut pas d'avantage ; et demanda pour toute 
 grace d'avoir seulement la tete tranchee. Huit bourreaux des diverses villes 
 se presenterent pour executer I'arrSt. Celui de Colmar, qui passait pour 
 le plus adroit, fut prdf6F& Avant de le conduire a I'echafaud, les seize 
 chevaliers qui faisaient partie des juges requirent que Messire de Hagen- 
 bach fiat degrade de sa dignite de chevalier etde tons ses honneurs. Pour 
 lors s'avan9a Gaspard Hurler, heraut de I'empereur; it il dit; 'Pierre de 
 Hagenbach, il me deplait grandement que vous ayez si mal employe votre 
 vie mortelle: de sorte qu'il convient que vous prediez non-seulement la 
 dignity et ordre dfe chevalerie, mais aussi la vie. Votre devoir ftait de 
 rendre la justice, de proteger la veuve et I'orphelin- ; de respecter les femmes 
 et les filles, d'honorer les saints pr^trcs ; de vous opposer & toute injuste 
 violence ; et, au contraire, vous avez commis tout ce que vous deviez em- 
 pScher. Ayant ainsi forfait au noble ordre de chevalerie, et aux sermens 
 que vous aviez jur&, les chevaliers ici pr^sens m'ont enjoint de vous en 
 6ter les insignes. Ne les voyant pas sur vous en ce moment, je vous pro- 
 clame indigne chevalier de Saint George, au nom et ^ I'honneur duquel on 
 vous avait autrefois honor^ de I'ordre de chevalerie.' Puis s'avan9a Her- 
 mann d'Eptingen : ' Puis qu'on vient de te d^rader de chevalerie, je te 
 de'pouille de ton collier, .chaine d'or, anneau, poignard, ^peron, gantelet. 
 II les lui prit et Men frappa le visage, et aijouta : ' Chevaliers, et vous qui 
 desirez le devenir, j'espfere que cette punition publique vous servira d'ex- 
 emple, et que vous vivrez dans la crainte de Dieu, noblementet villamment, 
 selon la dignity de la chevalerie et I'honneur de votre nom.' Enfin le 
 prevdt d'Einsilheim et mar^chal de cette commission de juges se leva, et 
 s'adressant au bourreau, lui dit : ' Faites selon la justice.' 
 
 " Tous les juges montJrent i cheval ainsi qii' Hermann d'Eptingen. Au 
 milieu d'eux marchait Pierre de Hagenbach, entre deux prgtres. C'etait 
 pendant la nuit. Des torches^clairaient la marche; une foule immense se 
 pressait autour de ce triste cortege. La condamnd s'entretenait avec son 
 confesseur d'un air pieux et recueilli, mais ferme ; se recommandant aussi 
 aux prieres de tous ceux qui I'entouraient. Arrive dans une prairie devant 
 la porte de la ville, il monta sur I'e'chafaud d'tin pas assur^ ; puis Levant 
 le vpix : — 
 
NOTES. 
 
 433 
 
 ' ' Je n'ai pas peur de la mort," dit-il ; ' encore que je ne I'attendisse pas 
 de cette sdrt, mais bien les armes a la main ; que je plains c'est tout le 
 sang que le mien fera couler. Monseigneur ne laissera point ce jour sans 
 vengeance pour moii Je ne regrette ni ma vie, ni mon corps. J'^tais 
 homme — ^prie^ pour moi.' II s'entretint encore un instant avec son con- 
 fesseur, pr&enta la tete et re9ut le coup." — M. DE Barante, torn. x. p, 
 197. 
 
 Translation. 
 
 ■' Such was the detestation in which this cruel governor was held, that 
 multitudes flocked in from all quarters to be present at his trial. He heard 
 from his prison the bridge re-echo with the tread of horses, and would ask 
 of his jailer respecting those who wei-e arriving, whether they might be his 
 judges, or those' desirous of witnessing his' punishment. Sometimes the 
 jailer would answer, ' These are strangers ' whom I know not' — ' Are not 
 they,' said the prisoner, ' men meanly c\id, tall in stature, and of bold mien, 
 mounted on short-eared horSes ? ' And if the jailer answered in the affirm- 
 ative, ' Ah, these are the Swiss,' cried Hagenbach. ' ' My God, have mercy 
 on>jne I ' and he; recalled to mind all the insults and cruelties he had heaped 
 upon them. He considered, but too late, that their alliance with the house 
 of Austria had been his destruction. ' ' 
 
 " On the 4th of May, 1474, after being put to the torture, he was brought 
 before his judges in the public square of Brisach, at the instance of Her- 
 mann d'Eptingen, who governed for the Archduke. His countenance was 
 firm, as one who feared not death. Henry Iselin of BSle first spoke in the 
 name of Hermann d'Eptingen, who acted for the lord ot the country. He 
 proceeded in nearly these terms : — ' Peter de Hagenbach, knight, steward 
 of my lord the Duke of Burgundy, and his governor in the country of Ser- 
 atte and Haute Alsace, was bound to observe the privileges reserved by 
 act, of compact', but he has alike trampled unde'r foot the laws of God and 
 man, and the rights which have been guaranteed by oath to the country. 
 He has caused four worshipful burgesses of Seratte to be put to death 
 without trial ; he has spoiled the' city of Brisach, and established there 
 judges and consuls chosen by hiniself ; he has broken and dispersed the 
 various communities of , burghers and craftsmen ; he has levied imposts of 
 his own will ; contrary to every law, he has quartered upon the inhabitants 
 soldiers of various countries — Lombards, French, men of Picardy, and 
 Flemings, and has encouraged them in pillage and disorder; he has even 
 commanded these men to butcher their hosts during night, and had caused 
 boats to be prepared to embark therein women and children to be sunk in 
 the Rhine. Finally, Should he plead the orders which he had received as 
 an excuse for these cruelties, how can he clear himself of having dishonored 
 so many women and maidens, even those under religious vows ? ' 
 
 " Other accusations were brought against him by examination, and wit- 
 nesses proved , outrages committed on the people of Mulhausen, and the 
 merchants of B3.1e. 
 
 " That every form of justice might be observed, an advocate was ap- 
 pointed to defend the accused. ' Messire Peter de Hagenbach,' said lie, 
 ' recognizes no other judge or master than my lord the Duke of Burgundy, 
 whose commission he bore, and whose orders he received. He had no 
 control over the orders he was charged to execute ; — his duty was to obey. 
 Who is ignorant of the submission due by military retainers to their lord 
 and master ? Can any one believe that the landvogt of my lord the Duke 
 could remonstrate with or resist him ? And has not my lord confirmed and 
 ratified by his presence all acts done in his name ? If imposts had been 
 
434. 
 
 JV£yT£S. 
 
 levied, it was because he liad need of money;; to obtiin it, it wju9 necessary 
 to punish those who refused paymieiit; this proceeding my lord the Du•ke,^ 
 and the Etiqi^ror himself, when present, have tonsiderisd as expedient, . 
 The qiartetang erf soldiers was alstsr ia accordance With the orders of the 
 Duke. WitiV rdspecKtO'ttie ja»isdi<aibn of BrHachjCouldi the lamdvogt per- 
 mit afiyl«SSisS»rite f**kn;t!hatqiMirtt»^i To cqwclttde;. in so serious s^n aAair 
 — one which touches the life of the prisoner — can the last consideration be 
 really considered a grievance ? Among all those who hear me, is there one 
 man who can sav he has never cpiiimitted similar imprudences ? Is it not 
 evident that Messire de Hageiibach has only taken advantage of the good- 
 will of some girls and women ; or, at the worst, that his money was , the 
 onlv restraint imposed upon thero? ' 
 
 " The juds^es sat for a long timp op the tribunal. Twelve hours elapsed 
 . before the termination of the triaU The Knight of Hagenbach, always 
 calm and undaunted, brought forward no other defence or excuse tban what 
 he had before given wtaeij under the torture : viz. the orders aadwill of bis 
 lend, who alone was his judge, and wf^o alone cpuld demand an explanation. 
 At length, at seven in the evening, and by the light of torches, the judges, 
 after having dejjlared it their province to pronounce judgment on the crimes 
 of which the landvogt was accused, caused liiiii ^o be called before them, 
 and delivered their sentence — condemning him to death. He betrayed Ho 
 emotion, and only demanded, as a favor, that he should be 'beheaded. 
 Eight executioners, pt various towns, presented themselves to execute the 
 sentence ; the one belonging to Colpiar, who was Accounted the most expert 
 was preferred. , 
 
 " Before conducting him to tlie scaffoldj the sixteen knights vdio acted 
 as judgeSf required that Messire de Hagphbach should be degx'aded from 
 the dignity of knight, and from all Us honors. Then advanced Caspar 
 Hurter, herald pf the Emperor, and said : — ' Fetei de Hagenbach, I deeply 
 deplore that you have so emplpyed your mortail life, that you must lose not 
 only the dignity and honor of knighthood, but voui; life also. Your duty 
 was to render justice, to protect the -Widow andi orphan, to t'espect women 
 and maidens, to honor the holy priests, to oppose every unjust outrage ; 
 but you have yourself committed what you ought to have opposed in others. 
 Having broken, therefore,, the oaths which you have sworn, and having for- 
 feited the noble order pf knighthppd, the knights here presetit have enjoined 
 me to deprive you of its insignia. Not perceiving them on your person at 
 this moment, I prpclaim you unworthy Knight of St. George, in whose 
 name and honor you were formerly admitted m the order of Knighthood.' 
 Then Hermann d'Eptingen advanced, ' Since, vou are degraded f roih knijghf- 
 hood, I deprive you of your collajr.jjpiii chain, ring, poniard, spur, and 
 gauntlet.' He then took them from Kim, and, striking him on the face, . 
 added; — 'Knights,( and you who aspire to that honor, I trust thispuljllc 
 punishment'wiil sarve as ai> example to you, and that you i^ill livp in the 
 fear of Go(}> Uipbly and yalifintly, in accordance with the dfgjiity pf Hijight- 
 hood,, and )^e,J)<spr of your name.' At iRst tlie provost of EinselVjp. and 
 marshal of that commission of judges, arose, and addressing himselrto the 
 executioner — ' Let jastiae be,4<^ue.' . ' 
 
 " All the judges, along with Hermann d'Eptingen, mounted on horse- 
 back ; in the midst of them walked Peter de Hagenbach between two; 
 priests. It was night, ^nd they marched, by the light of torches; an im- 
 mense crowd pressed around this sad proc^^sion. The prispner conversed 
 with his confessor, with pious, coUpoted, and firm denieanor recommending 
 himself to the prayers of the spectators. On arriving at a meadow without 
 the gate of the town, he mounted the scaffpld with a firm ?tep, and elevating 
 his voice, exclaimed ; — 
 
NOTMS. ' 435 
 
 " I fear not deiaith, I have always expeeted it ; not, mdeett^ in this 
 manner, but with arms in my hand. I regret alone tJie bloOd which min* 
 will cause to be shed ; my lord will liot permit tUs day to pass unavenged'. 
 1 regret neither my life nor body. I was a marc-^Tay for me I ' He con^ 
 versed an instant more with his confessor, presented Ms head, and received 
 the blow." — M. DE Barante, tom. x. p. 197. 
 
 Note D, p. 338. — Provei*c1al TRoUBADonRS. 
 
 The smoothness of the Proven9al dialect, partaking strongly rif the Latin, 
 ■which had been spoketl for so many ages in What was called for distinction's 
 sake the Roman Province of Gatil, and the ridiness and-fei'titity of a country 
 abounding in all that could delight the senses and soothe the' imagination, 
 naturally disposed the inhabitants, to cultivate the art of poetry, and to 
 value and foster the genius of tiljose who distinguished themselves by 
 attaining excellence in it. Troubadours, that is, finders or inventors, 
 equivaleiit to the northern term of makers, arose in every class, from the 
 lowest to the highest, and success in their art dignified men of the meanest 
 rank, and added fresh honors to those who were born in the Patrician 
 file of society. War and love, more especially the latter, were dictated tb 
 thera by the chivalry of the times as the especial subjects of their verse. 
 Such, too, were the themes of our northern minstrels. But whilst the 
 latter confined themselves in general to those well«known metrical histories 
 in which scenes of strife and combat mingled with adventures of enchant- 
 ment, and fables of giants and monsters subdued by valiant champions, 
 such as best attracted the ears of the somewhat duller and more barbarous 
 warriors of northern France, of Britain, and of Germany — the more livel'j- 
 Troubadours produced poems which turned on human passion, and on love, 
 affection, and dutiful observance, with which the faithful knight was bound 
 to regard the object of bis choice, and the honor and respect with which 
 she was bound to recompense his faithful services. 
 
 Thus far it cannot be disputedthat the themes selected by the Trouba' 
 dours were those on which poetry is most naturally exerted, and with the 
 best chance of rising to excellence. But it usually happens that when any t 
 one of the fine arts is cultivated exclusively, the tttetei of those who practice 
 and admire its productions loses sight of nature, siinplicity and true taste, 
 and the artist endeavors- to discover, while the pufelic learn to admire, 
 some more complicated system, in which pedantry supersedes the dictates 
 of natural feeling, and metaphysical ingenuity is used instead of the more 
 obvious qualifications of simplicity and good sense. Thijs, with the unani- 
 mous approbation of their hearers, the Troubadours framed for thentselves 
 a species of poetry describing and inculcating a system of metaphvsical 
 affection, as inconsistent with nature as the minstrel's tales of magicians 
 and monsters ; with this evil to society,. that it was calculated deeply to in- 
 ■ jure its manners and:_ its morals. Every Troubadour,, or good Knight, who 
 took the maxims of their poetical school for.hjs, rule, was bound to choose 
 a lady-love, the fairest and noblest to whom, he had access, to whom he ded- 
 icated at once his lyre and his sword, and who, married or single,, was to 
 be the object to whom his life, words, and actions were to be devoted. On 
 the other hand, a lady thus honored and distinguished, was bound, by ac- 
 cepting the services of such a gallant, to consider him as her lover, and on • 
 all due oocasions-to grace him as such with .distinguished marte of personal 
 favor. It is true, that, according to the best authorities, the intercourse 
 betwixt her lover and herself was to be entirely of a Platonic character, 
 and the loyal swain was not to require, or the chosen lady to bestow,^ any- 
 thing beyond the favor she might in strict isjodesty bestow. Even under 
 
436 • NOTES. 
 
 this restriction, the systefti was like to make wild work with the domestic 
 peace of families, since it permitted, or rather enjoined, such familiarity 
 betwixt the fair dame and her poetical admirer ; and very frequently human 
 passions, placed in such a dangerous situation, proved too strong to be 
 confined within the nJetaphysical bounds prescribed to them by so fantastic 
 and perilous a system. The injured husbands on many occasions avenged 
 themselves with severity, and even with dreadful cruelty, on the unfaithful 
 ladies, and the musical skill and chivalrous character of the lover proved 
 no protection to his person. But the real spirit of the system was seen in 
 this, that in the poems of the other Troubadours, by whom such events are 
 recorded, their pity is a!ll bestowed on the hapless lovers, while, without the 
 least allowance for just provocation, the injured husband is, held up to exe- 
 cration. 
 
 Note E, p. 339. — Parliament of L,ove< 
 
 In Provence, during the flourishing time of the Troubadours, Love was 
 esteemed so grave and formal a part of the business of life, that a Parlia- 
 ment or High Court of Love was appointed for deciding such questions. 
 This singular tribunal was, it may be supposed, conversant with more of 
 imaginary than of real suits; but it is astonishing with what cold and pedan- 
 tic ingenuity the Troubadours of whom it consisted set themselves to plead 
 and to decide, upon reasoning which was not less singular and able than 
 out of place, the absurd questions which their own fantastic imagination 
 had previously devisedj There, for example, is a reported case, of much 
 celebrity, where a lady sitting in company with three persons, who were 
 her admirers, listened to one with the most favorable smiles, while she 
 pressed the hand of the second, and touched with her own the foot of the 
 third. It was a case much agitated and keenly contested in the Parlia- 
 ment of Love, which of the rivals had received the distinguishing mark of 
 the lady's favor. Much ingenuity was wasted on this and similar cases of 
 which there is a collection, in all judiciail form of legal proceedings, under 
 the title of Arrets <C Amour (Adjudged cases of the Court of Love.) 
 
 Note J", p; 426. — Charles the Bold. 
 
 The following very striking passage is that in which Philip de Commines 
 sums up the last scene of Charles the Bold, whose various fortunes he had 
 long watched with a dark anticipation that a character so reckless, and 
 capable of such excess, must sooner or later lead to a tragical result: — 
 
 '• As soon as the Count de Campo-Basso arrived in the Duke of Lorrain's 
 army, word was sent to him to leave the camp immediately, for they would 
 not entertain nor have anjr communication with such traytors. Upon which 
 message he retir'd with his party to a Castle and Pass n^t far off, where h6^ 
 fortified himself with carts and other things as well as he could, in hopes, 
 that if the Duke of Burgundy was routed, he might have an opportunity of 
 coming in for a share of the plunder, as he did afterward. Nor was this 
 practice with the Duke of Lorrain the most execrable action that Campo- 
 Basso was guilty of ; but before he left the army he conspired with several 
 other officers (finding it was impracticable to attempt anything against the 
 • Duke of Burgundy's person) to leave him just as they came to charge, for 
 at that time he suppos'd it would put the Duke into the greatest terror and 
 consternation, and if he iied, he was sure he could not escape alive, for he 
 had order'd thirteen or fourteen sure men, some to run as soon as the Ger- 
 mans came up to charge 'em, and others to watch' the Duke of Burgundy 
 and kill liim in the rout, which was well enough contrived; I myself have 
 
NOTES. 437 
 
 seen two or three of those who were employed to kill the Duke. Having 
 thus settled his conspiracy at home, he went over to the Duke of Lorrain 
 upon the approach of the German army ; but finding they would not enter- 
 tain him, he retired to Conde. 
 
 " The German army march'd forward, and with 'em a considerable body 
 cf French horse, whom the King had given leave to be present at that 
 action. Several parties lay in ambush not far offj that if the Duke, of Bur- 
 gundy was routed, they might surprise some person or quality or tgike some 
 , considerable booty. By this every one may see into what a deplorable con- 
 dition this poor Duke had brought himself by his contempt of good counsel, ; 
 Both armies being joyn'd, the Duke of Burgundy's forces having been twice 
 beaten before, and by consequence weak and dispirited, and ill provided, 
 besides, were quickly broken and entirely defeated : Many sav'd theniselyes 
 and got off ; the rest were either taken or kill'd ; and among 'em the Duke 
 of Burgundy himself was kill'd on the spot. One Monsieur Claude of 
 Bausmont, Captain of the Castle of Dier in Lorrain, kill'd thq Duke of 
 Burgundy. Finding his army routed, he mounted a swift horse, and 
 endeavoring to swim a little river in order to make his escape, his horse 
 fell with : him and overset him: The Duke cry'd put for quarter to this 
 gentleman who was pursuing him, but he being deaf, and not hearing him, 
 immediately kill'd and stripp'd him, not knowing who he was, and left, him 
 naked in the ditch, where his body was found the next day after the battle; 
 which the Duke of Lorrain, (to, his eternal honor) buried with great pomp 
 and magnificence in St, George's Church,, in the old town of Nancy, himself 
 and all his nobility, in deep mourning, attending the corpse to the, grave. 
 The following epitaph was sometime afterward ingrav'd on his tomb: — 
 
 ' Carolus hoc btisto Btirgimdte gloria gentis 
 Conditur, Europce qui fuit, ante iimor.'' 
 
 I saw a seal ring of his, since his death, at Milan, vifich his arms cut 
 curiously upon a sardonix that I have seen, him often wear in a ribbon at his 
 breast, which was sold at Milan for twq ducats, and had been stolen from 
 him by a rascal that waited on him in his chamber. I have often seen the 
 Duke dress'd and undress'd in great state and formality, and attended by 
 very great persons; but at his death all this pomp and magnificence ceas'd, 
 and his family was involved in the same ruin with himself, and very likely 
 as a punishment for his having deliver'd up the Constable not long before, 
 out of a base and avajricious principle ; but God forgive hjjn. I have . 
 known him a powerful and honorable Prince, in as great esteem, and as 
 much courted by his neighbors (when his, affairs were in a prosperous con- 
 dition), as any Prince in Europe, and perhaps more; and I cannot conceive 
 what should provoke God Almighty's displeasure so highly against him, 
 unless it was his self-love and arrogance, in appropriating all the success of 
 his enterprises, and all the renown he ever acquir'd, to his own wisdom and 
 conduct, without: attributing anything to God., Yet, to speak truth, he was 
 master of several good qujiTities : No Prince ever had a greater ambition to 
 entertain young noblemen than he, nor was more careful of their education; 
 His presents and bounty were never profuse and extravagant, because he 
 gave to inany, and had a mind everybody should taste of it. No Prince 
 was ever easier of access to his servants a.nd subjects. Whilst I was in 
 his service he was never cruel, but a little before his death he took up with 
 that humor, which was an infallible sign of the shortness of his life, ; He 
 was very splendid and curious in his dress, and in everything else, and in- 
 deed a little too much. He paid great honors to all ambassadors and for- 
 eigners, and entertain'd them nobly : His ambitious desire of fame was 
 
438 NOTES. 
 
 insatiaMej and it was that which induced him to be eternally in wars, more 
 than any other motive. He ambitiously desired to imitate the old Kings 
 and Heroes of antiquity, whose actions still shine in History, and are so 
 much talked of in the world, and his courage was equal to any Prince of his 
 time. 
 
 " But all his designs and imaginations were vain and extravagant, and 
 turn'd afterward to his own dishonor and confusion, for 'tis the conquerors 
 and not the conquer'd ^that purchase to themselves renown. Ii cannot easily 
 determine toward whom God Almighty show'd his anger most, whether 
 toward him who died suddenly withJoat pain or sickness in the field of 
 battle, or toward his subjects who never enjoy'd peace after i'ls death, but 
 were continually involv'd in wars^ against which they were notable to main- 
 tain themselves, upon accounts of the civil dissentions and, cruel animosi- 
 ties that arose among 'em ; and that which was the most insupportable, 
 •*as, that the very people, to whom they were now obligedfor their defence 
 and preservation, were the Germante, who were strangers, and. not long 
 since their profess'd enemies. In- sliort, after the Duke's death, there was 
 not a neighboring state that WisWd them to prosper, nor even Germany 
 that defended 'em. And by the management of their affairs, their under- 
 standing seem'd to be as inuch infatuated as their master's, for they re- 
 jected all gooel counsel, and pursued such methods as directly tended to 
 their destruction ; and they sirfe still in such a condition, that though they 
 have at present some little ease and relaxation from their sorrows, yet it is 
 with great danger of a relapse, and 'tis well if it turns not in the end to their 
 utter ruin. 
 
 " I am partly of their opinion who maintain that God gives Princes, as 
 he in his wisdom thinks fit, to punish or chastise the subjects ; and he dis- 
 poses the affection o£ subjects to their Princes, as he has determin'd to 
 raise or depress 'em. Just so it has pleas'd him to deal with the House of 
 Burgundy; foif after a long series of riches and prosperity, and six-and-twenty 
 years' peace under three Illustrious Princes, predecessors to this Charles 
 (all of 'em excellent persons, and of great prudence and discretion), it 
 pleased God to send this Duke Charles, vi>ho involv'd them in bloody wars, 
 as well winter as summer, to their great affliction and expense, in which 
 most of their richest and stoutest men were either killed or utterly undone. 
 Their misfortunes continu'd successively to the very hour of his death ; and 
 after such a manner, that at the last the whole strength of their country was 
 destroy' d, and all kill'd or taken prisoners who had any zeal or affection for 
 the House of Burgundy, and had power to defend the state and dignity of 
 that family; so that iii a manner their losses were equal to, if not over- 
 balanc'd their former prosperity ; for as I have seen those Princes heretofore 
 puissant, rich, arid honorable, so that it fared the same with their subjects; 
 for I think I have seen and known the greatestpart of Europe ; yet I never 
 knew any province, or country, tho' pethaps of a larger extent, so abound- 
 ing in money, so extravagantly fine in furniture for their horses, so sump- 
 tuous in their buildings, so profuse in their expenses, so luxurious in their 
 feasts and entertainments, and so prodigal in all respects, as the subjects of 
 these Princes, in my time; but it has pleased God at one blow to subvert 
 and ruin this illustrious family. Such changes and revolutions in states 
 and kingdoms, God in his providence has Wrought before we were bom, and 
 will do so again when we are in our graves ; fot this is a certain maxim, 
 that the prosperity or adversity of Princes are wholly at his disposal."— 
 CoMMiNES, 'Book V. Chap. 9. 
 
INDEX TO ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 
 
 Adversity and prosperity, 6. 
 
 Affections, domestic, 294. 
 
 Agnes, Qil^eiit i43. 
 
 Aix, 343. 
 
 ^Albert. See Geierstein. 
 
 Alpine scenery, 5 
 
 Alsace, scenery of, 197. 
 
 Anne of Geierstein rescues Arthur on tKe 
 Alps, 23. Description of her, 35* Takes 
 the bow to Arthur, 42. Her origin, 52. 
 jiif, 1284 Stops tlie duel, 64. AtGraffs- 
 lusit, 85. Apparition of, 92, 267. Rescues 
 Arthur from the dungeon, 163. Warns 
 ArtJIiur on the xo^^i 200. At Arnheim 
 Castle, 248. Interview with Arthur, 259. 
 And Schreckenwald^ 26S. Travels to 
 Strassburg 276. Her memento to Arthur, 
 312. Marriage, 429. 
 
 Anne of Geierstein, the novel, note, 430. 
 
 Anne Veilchen at Arnheim, 246. Tells Anne 
 of Arthur's arrival, 248- Child by her mis- 
 tress, 262.. Her reflectioii^ 272, settled, 
 429. 
 
 Antonio the guide 6. Entreats Philipson, 
 16. 
 
 ApoUyoil, Geierstein?s s^tjeed^. 116. 
 
 Arnheim^ Barons of, t^heir supernatural 
 power, III, 265. / 
 
 Arnheim Castle, Arthur's, arrival at, 248. 
 
 Arnheim, Herman of, historyof, n6. Mar- 
 ries the Persian, lis, z^S" 
 
 Amold. Sfie Biederman. 
 
 Arthur. See Philipson, 
 
 Arthur, King, 96. 
 
 Bale, inhospitality of, 77- Rescue from, 
 
 i8q. , '_ 
 
 Bambergv Bishop of^ 123. 
 
 Banished men unwelcome, 393. 
 
 Barante, quotation from, 4311. 
 
 Bartholomew, the false guide, igS^ 
 
 Beauty in suffering, 8,7. 
 
 Berchtold of Oflringen, 147. 
 
 Biederman, Arnold, the Landamraan, 31. 33* 
 Interview with Schreckenwald, 55, Stc^s 
 t^ie dual, 63. Refused admittance into Bale, 
 78. Respect for Philipson, 13s. , Rescues 
 the Philipsqns, 165. Shut into the dungeon 
 183. At the Council, 189. Before Charles 
 the Bold, 326. Death, 429. 
 
 Biederman, Ernest/ reproved .by his father, 
 
 ■ 8o- 
 
 Biederman, Rudiget;, 431,; 96. Death of, 426, 
 
 Biederman, Sigismund» the slothful, 89. 
 Sees the apparition, 130- Devotion for 
 Arthur, 170. Recovers the casket, 191. 
 Meets Arthur at Aix, 376. Returns the 
 casket, 381. Dances at Aix, 3S7. Aids 
 
 , Arthur at Nancy, 42^5. 
 
 BlacU Format, 197. 
 
 Black Priest of St. Paul's. See Geiersteiit, 
 
 _ Albert, ; , 
 
 Block, IMCartin, the Burgundian deputy, 325. 
 
 Blue Knight of BSle. See Ferrand; 
 
 Buisgelin, Lady of , 370. 
 
 Bonstetten, Nicholas, 72. 
 
 Bow of Buttisholz shot by Arthur, 41. 
 
 Breisaoh, 140. Stormed by the BAlese, 179. 
 
 Breisach. See Breisachr , , 
 
 Burgundian Gamp, ago! Pat-liam.ent, 319. j ' 
 
 Burgundy, Duke pf. See Chavles the 
 Bold. 
 
 Buttisholz, battle of, 43, 
 
 Qabes-tainv, William, 337. 
 
 Cannp, But^undian, 290. 
 
 C^fnpo-Basso, 305, 3 so. Defends his honor, 
 330. Treachery of, 406. Deserts the 
 Duke,, 426. 
 
 Caspar, the stable-master, 117. 
 
 Charlet, the Landamman's, 32. 
 
 Charles the Bold, exactions; on the Swiss.- 
 76,77." Interview with Philipson,, 292,, his 
 dreams of Provence, 297, Disguised as a 
 Walloon, 306. Opposed by his parliament 
 320. Spurns the Swiss deputies, 326. 
 housed by Philipson, 402, Summoned by 
 the Secret Tribunal, 411. Death of, 424. 
 note on, 43S. 
 
 Cologne, Archbishop of, noie, 386. 
 
 Colvin, Henry, 291. Hisestimateof Charles's 
 troops,' 300. Brings bf^d news to Philij^ 
 son, 396. Killed at his guns, 413. ^ 
 
 Comines Philip des, 401^ 
 
 Commerce, novelty, the mottp of, 293. 
 
 Compas^ mariner's, 7. 
 
 Contay, M. de, 401. 
 
 Cornwall chivalry, 96* 
 
 DANNiscHEMBHDf the Persian, 118, 263, 
 
440 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Dawn on the Alps, 5g. 
 
 De Vere (Earl of Oxford). Set Philipson. 
 
 Death tries nobility, 153. 
 
 Deputies, Swiss, 71, Go to the rescue of 
 Philipson, 173. Council of, in Ferette, 18S. 
 Before Charles the Bold, 325. 
 
 Diamond of Sanci, 292. 
 
 Dijon, ^16. 
 
 Domestic affections, 294. 
 
 Donnerhugel, Rudolph, 35. Chagrin at 
 Arthur's success, 45. Duel with him, 63. 
 Acts guard at Graffs-lust, 83- Asks 
 Arthur to join the league, 104. His tale of 
 the Geiersteins, 11 1. Goes to thu rescue of 
 the Philipsons, 170. Throws down his 
 challenge to Burgundy, 326. Eucounter 
 with Arthur, ^nd death, 413. 
 
 Double walkersi note^ 131. 
 
 Duel between Arthur and Donnerhugel, 59, 
 413- 
 
 Dungeon, German, note^ 430. 
 
 Edward IV., 58, 67. Invades France, 285. 
 
 Peace with Louis, 333. 
 Einsiedlen,.our Lady of, 2t. 
 English merchants, 142. Reserve, 32. 
 Ernest. See Biederman. 
 Executioner, public, note un, 430. 
 
 Fame, unsubstantial. 295. 
 
 Ferette, Castle of, 71. Dungeon of, 161. 
 
 Note, 430. Stormed by the' Balese, 179. 
 Ferrand de Vaudemont as the Blue Knight 
 
 of Bale,\i85. Arrival at Aix, 37^2. Frees 
 
 Arthur, 413. 
 Ferry, chapel of, 205. 
 Feudal liberties, 317. 
 Fire, sacred, iiS. 
 Flying Stag Inn, 277- 
 
 German Inn, 215, 277. 
 
 Geierstein, Court Albert of, 50. Asks back 
 his daughter, 55. Marriage of, 113. (As 
 Priest of St. Paul's) warns Hagenbath, 
 147. Rescues Arthur from the dtiiig^on, 
 163. Meets Philipsonon the road, 207. 
 And at the mn, 226. In the Vehme-^er- 
 icht, 234. Speaks' for the Butgundian 
 estates, 330. As a Carmelite brings the 
 letter to Queen Margaret, 363. Interview 
 with Arthur about his daughter, 413. Ap- 
 pointed to kill the Duke, 416. Death of, 
 42^ 
 
 Geierstein, Anne of. See Anne. 
 
 Geierstein, Castle of, 12, 28, 48. 
 
 Geierstein, familv of, 48. 
 
 Goethe's Goetz of Berlichingen, 197. 
 
 Goetz of Berlichingen, 197. 
 
 Golden Fleece Inn, 215. 
 
 Graffs-lust, 82.' 
 
 Gratian, Father, 219. 
 
 Grandson, battle of. See Granson. 
 
 Granson, battle of, 376. 
 
 Guides, blame sure to fall on the, 18. 
 
 Haghnbach, Archibald, 71. Consults 
 with Kilian, 141. Warned by the Priest, 
 146. Robs and imprisons the Philipsons, 
 152. Insults the deputies, 178. Execution 
 oi, 183. Note on, 431; 
 
 Hans, the hermit boatman, 205. 
 
 Hermione, the Persian, 122. 
 
 Hochspringen, Duke of, 124. 
 Horses, attention to, 2 1 7. 
 
 If I hit mast, and line, and bird, 45. 
 Ingelram de Couci, 43. 
 Inn, German, 215, 277. 
 Ital. See Schreckenwald. 
 
 Kilian, the Bavarian, 141, 
 Kirch-hoff, 207. 
 
 La Ferette. See Ferette. 
 
 La Rivifere Cattle, 400. 
 
 Lammergeier, 20. 
 
 Lancaster and York parties, 288, 293. 
 
 Landamman. See Biederman, Arnold. 
 
 Laurenz N'tiipperg. See Ferrand. 
 
 Lou Garagoule, 360. 
 
 Louis IX., connection with the Swiss, 38, 
 
 67. Pence with Edward IV., 333. 
 Love, Parliament of, iiote^ 437. 
 Love, the parent of brave actions, 3G6. 
 Lucerne, 3- 
 
 Margaret of Anjou meefting with the Phil- 
 ipsons m Strassbui^ Cathedral, 279. At 
 St. Victoire, 356. Scene on the battlement, 
 361. Requests Ren^ to resign his domin- 
 ions, 371' Death of^ 388. 
 
 Matthew of Doncasier, 42. 
 
 Measm-es of good and evil, 232. 
 
 Memory, character of Author's, i. 
 
 Mengs, John, the hinkeeper, 218. Apolo 
 gies, 229. 
 
 Mercenary soldiers, 305. 
 
 Minstrels, Provencal, note on, 396. 
 
 Mont St. Victoire, 354, 
 
 Morat, battle of, 396- 
 
 Mount Pilatus, 6. 
 
 Murten, battle of, 436. 
 
 Myrebeau, Sire de, 320. 
 
 Nancy, battle of, 423. 
 
 Neuchatel I^ake. See Nenfchatel. 
 
 Neufchatel Lake, 376. 
 
 Novelty, the motto of commerce, 293. 
 
 Opal, the Geierstein, 121, 123, 127, 263. 
 Gxfoi^, Earl uf, 6'tf? Philipson, Seignor. 
 
 Palgrave's history of the Vehme-gericht, z. 
 
 Parliament of Burgundy 319, 
 
 Parliament of Love. 7ioie^ 437. 
 
 Philipson, Arthur, traveling in the Alps, 3. 
 Rescued by Anne; 22. Shoots the Bow 
 of Buttisholz, 44. Duel with Dbnner- 
 hugel, 60. .At Graffs-iust, 87. Sees the 
 apparition of AnnC, 92, Asked to joirt 
 Rudolph's league, 105. In the dungeon 
 of Ferette, i6j. And rescued by Anne, 
 163. Apprises the Swiss of the danger, 
 169. Warned by Anne on the road, 200. 
 Separates from his father, 204. Arrives at 
 Arnheim Castle, 245. Interview with 
 Anne, 2_59. Discloses his r.\nk, 266. Ac- 
 companies her to Sti'assburgv 272. Meets 
 Queen Margaret, 284. Anne's memento, 
 312. Journey to Province, 336. Inter- 
 view with King Ren^. 346. Intervievi? 
 with the Queeti at St. Victoire, 356. Dis- 
 covers the invisible ink, 366. Second 
 challenge from Rudolph, 409. And en- 
 
INDEX. 
 
 441 
 
 counter, 413. Interview with Anne's 
 fatlier, 513. The union. 429. 
 
 Philipson, Seignor (De Vere, Earl of Ox- 
 ford), travehng as a merchant, 3. Anxiety 
 for his son's safety, 16. Presents Anne 
 with ear-rings, 65. Parts from the dele- 
 gates, 13c, Robbed and imprisoned by 
 Hagenbaqi, 152. Rescued from the dun- 
 geon, 181. Recovers his casket, iq2. Re- 
 {lairs to Strassbun;, 195. Separates from 
 lis son, 202. Meets the Priest of St. 
 Paul's, 209. At the inn, 215. His bed 
 lowered into the Vehme-gericht, 230. 
 Meets Queen Margaret in Strassburg 
 Cathedral, 279. Interview with Charles, 
 292. Pleads for the Swiss deputies, 300, 
 335, Letter to the Queeii, 363. Attends 
 her funeral, 391. Rouses Charles to ac- 
 tion, 402. And finds Charles camp unde- 
 fended, 421. Return to England, 429. 
 
 Pilatus, Mount, 6. 
 
 Pontius Pilate, Swiss legend of, 6. 
 
 Priest of St. Paul's. See Geierstein, Albert. 
 
 Prosperity and adversity, 6. 
 
 Provence, 341. 
 
 Provence, Parliament of Love, note^ 436. 
 
 Provencal Troubadours, note on, 435. 
 
 Public faith, 143. 
 
 Ranic and duty, 255. 
 
 Raymond de Roussillnn, 337. 
 
 Red Land, 233- Note 241. 
 
 Ren^, King, 2S3. Charles's estimate of, 299, 
 Account of, 339. Interview witli Arthur, 
 346. Dressed as King Solomon, 353. 
 Signing away his dominions, 372. 
 
 Reserve,^ English, 32. 
 
 Rhine, river, 77, 197, 244. 
 
 RhiucCTave mutineers, 272. 
 
 Ridicule before the ladies, 34. 
 
 Ritual, Rent's love of, 352. 
 
 Rivi&re Castle, 400. 
 
 Robber knights, ^i> 
 
 Rudiger. See Biederman. 
 
 Rudolph. See Donnerhugel. 
 
 St. Gall Library, 1. 
 
 St. Paul's, Priestof, See Geierstein, Albert. 
 St. Victoire Convent, 355. 
 Scharfgeiichter. See Steinemherz. 
 Schreckenwald, Ital, 52. Interview with Anne 
 
 at Arnheim, 268. And conducts her to 
 
 Strassburg, 272. Death of, 424. 
 Secret Tribunal. See Vehnie. 
 Sigismund". See Biederman. 
 Song, measures of good and evil, 232. 
 Sorcery in middle ages, 114. 
 Steinernherz, Francis, tlie executioner, 150. 
 
 Executes his own master, 1S3. 
 Steinfeldt, Baroness, 125. 
 Siradiots, /(Of). 
 
 Strasbourg. See Strassburg. 
 Sirassburg Cathedral, 279. 
 Storm in the Alps, 11. 
 Stiirmthal, Malchior, 72. 
 Supper, German, at the Golden Fleece, 220. 
 Swiss wars, 2, 43, 67, 376. Wine, 38, Very 
 
 Scots. 308. Deputies, see deputies. 
 Switzerland in i474» S* 
 Sybilla of Arnheim, 128. 
 
 Thibault, the Provencal, 336, 
 Troubadours, Proven^jal, note on, 435, 
 
 Vaudemont. See Ferrand, 
 
 Vehme-gericht. the Secret Tribunal, 231. 
 Scroll presented to Charles, 309. President 
 of, note, 3S6. Summons Charles, 41a. 
 Palgrave's history of, 2. 
 
 Veilchen. See Annette. 
 
 Vere (Earl of Oxford). See Philipson. 
 
 Vice, misplaced praise on, 338. 
 
 Vienne, Archbishop of, 318. 
 
 Vulture, Alpine, 21. 
 
 Waldstetten, Countess, 122, 
 Wolf-fanger, the hound, 98. 
 Wolves, Swiss, danger of, 72. 
 
 York and Lancaster parties, ^87, 293, 
 
 Zimmerman Adam, iv. 72.