Heroines of the Crusades Part 8

"I proffered no suit save to her uncle."

"And what said the Atheling to thy visionary scheme?"

"He promised to give her to me with his blessing, on his return from the crusade."

"But here comes another son of Cus.h.i.+, with tidings for the Countess of Blois. Judging from his tattered garments, and limping gait, his story must eclipse all that have gone before. My '_visionary schemes_' shall not claim the attention that should be devoted to this magnificent eastern amba.s.sador;" and with a smile of irony Henry took his departure.

The appearance of the individual who entered the presence of Adela, and the tidings he brought, fully justified the sarcastic conjectures of Henry. He was a refugee from the party of Walter the Penniless, a band whose only recommendation for the Holy war was their poverty. Before setting out, each one was searched, and the man upon whose person was found the sum of two sous, was hooted from the camp. Animated by a blind fanaticism, they expected that rivers would be opened for their pa.s.sage; that flesh would be miraculously supplied; manna rained from heaven upon them, and the smitten rock send forth its cooling stream. The hospitality of the Hungarians confirmed their faith; but when they entered the kingdom of Bulgaria, the illusion vanished, and the famine-stricken mult.i.tudes, abandoning their presumptuous trust in heaven, resorted to carnage and plunder. The exasperated inhabitants fell upon them without fear or mercy.

Many were slain, numbers fled to the forests, and a remnant of the disappointed devotees attempted to retrace their steps to their own land.

After listening to the account of the miserable fugitive, Adela remarked, that the misfortunes of the company doubtless proceeded from their forgetfulness of the last directions of the Saviour: "He that hath a purse let him take it, and likewise his scrip, and he that hath no sword let him sell his garment and buy one."

"Ah, lady!" said the wretched fanatic, "think not that our misfortunes arose from our want of money or arms, but rather through our impatience to be gone, that led us to set out on Friday, instead of waiting for the holy rest of the Sabbath."

The countess was residing with her family in Troyes, when she gave audience to another of her "eastern amba.s.sadors," as Henry jocosely called them.

This man arrived at nightfall, on a sorry mule, the self-same animal that a few months before, under Peter the Hermit, had led greater hosts to battle than Bucephalus under Alexander, and which had enjoyed such a reputation for sanct.i.ty that even his very hairs were devoutly treasured as relics. Now, jaded and dispirited, with drooping head and pendant ears, the poor beast slowly paced his heavy way up to the gates of the castle.

His rider seemed no less bowed with grief and fatigue, and wearily dismounting, he meekly waited among the servants, till summoned to the presence of his mistress.

"You behold, n.o.ble lady," said he, "one of those individuals whose fate it is to bring ruin upon every expedition in which he embarks."

"Miserable man," exclaimed Adela, "hast thou betrayed the army of the Lord?"

"G.o.d forbid that I should have been guilty of so foul a deed," said the pilgrim, devoutly crossing himself; "but the curse of Jonah rests upon me.

Evil was the day when, impoverished by the wars of Duke Robert, I plundered the sacred vessels of a church, and melted and sold them, to obtain food for my starving family. The crime lay heavy on my conscience, and to expiate its guilt I joined the band of the Hermit. But my sinful love for my children prevailed over my devotion, and Satan tempted me with the thought, that were they permitted to accompany me, they at least might win the crown of martyrdom, though their father should suffer the punishment of his sins. With much difficulty and labor, we sc.r.a.ped together means to purchase a yoke of oxen and a cart, and the charity of my n.o.ble countess (heaven reward thee) provided raiment for my poor old father and helpless infants. Heaven pardon me, but my wicked heart was inflated with pride, as seating my precious ones in the vehicle, I walked by their side; and pleased was I as we reached any town or city, to hear the little ones inquire, if that were Jerusalem. Fool that I was not to remember the Saviour's words, 'He that forsaketh not all that he hath, cannot be my disciple.' There were many who, falling into the same error, c.u.mbered the train with useless baggage, and many feeble and sick, both men and women, caused that our route was tedious and slow. The heat of summer came on, and the weariness of the way seemed to increase. My children forgot their innocent prattle, and stretched their tender limbs upon the floor of the cart. The old man, my father, slept, and we could not wake him; and my wife gave me the infant from her breast--it was dead--and we buried them by the wayside. This was the beginning of sorrows. But the _horrors_ of my crime flashed upon me, when certain sons of Belial among our company, set fire to the houses, and commenced to plunder the people through whose villages we pa.s.sed. The inhabitants armed against us, and I shudder to describe the b.l.o.o.d.y scenes which followed.

Enraged at the wanton attack, they rushed out upon us, fell upon the rear of the army, glutted their wrath with the blood of all that opposed them, and destroyed that part of the mult.i.tude whom weakness left without defence. My wife and sons fell victims to their fury, and Therese, my lovely daughter, was torn shrieking from my arms, and carried away by a brutal ruffian."

"Unhappy Therese," said Adela, dropping a tear. "My poor William has pined for his patient nurse."

"In the extremity of my desperation," continued the pilgrim, "I rushed into the thickest of the fight, and sought for death; but in vain. My crimes were too great, and I was reserved to mourn the loss of those for whose dear sakes I had perilled my soul.

"Deploring the ruin that my sins, and the sins of such as me had brought upon the holy pilgrims, I determined to hide myself in a convent, and seek by a life of penance, the pardon I hoped to have found at the Saviour's tomb; and finding the deserted mule of our leader, wandering upon the border of a marsh, I mounted upon his back, and begged my way hither."

The countess gave him money for the remainder of his journey, to the monastery of Caen, and with a heavy heart dismissed him.

A German monk of great sanct.i.ty resided in a solitary cell in the forest of Troyes. The fame of cures, effected by him, through the medium of invisible agents, led the countess to consult him with regard to her invalid son. Thibaut and Stephen, with a small train, accompanied her to the hermitage.

On their return their way was obstructed by a crowd, collected about a grotesque-looking figure clothed partly in armor, and partly in priestly robes. His head was ornamented with a cap like that of a merry-Andrew, at the top of which flourished a feather cut in the form of a cross. From his shoulders hung numerous thongs, to which were attached boxes and bags of various colors and dimensions, and a rosary of small human bones was suspended about his neck. This he occasionally shook with demoniac glee, as an accompaniment to songs, whose sentiment strangely alternated between piety and profanity.

"News from the wars," shouted he approaching the cavalcade.

"Holy relics for sinners all, The thumb of St. Peter, the tooth of St Paul."

"Yea more--Babylon has fallen--the Jews, the Jews--Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, are consumed in the burning fiery furnace--Ha! ha! How the flames crackled and sparkled--How the Long-beards winced and writhed--Ashes! Ashes!" said he, throwing the contents of one of the boxes into the faces of the spectators--"Yea more--

"The crusaders followed the spirit divine, And water and blood it turned into wine; That made us strong for the slaughter.

Drink--heal--wa.s.sail,"--and he poured from a bottle a noisome liquid, from which the crowd shrank back in disgust.

"The demons shrieked in the forest--and the little fiends winked in the marshes--they showed us the way to the holy sepulchre--bridges of corpses--rusty armor--glaring eyeb.a.l.l.s. How the wolves howled on our track--and the black ravens croaked over the dying--'Twas rare sport to hear them groan.

"The goat led his followers up the steep rock, The goose flapped her wings, and headed the flock; List to the sound of the martyrs' bones;"

and the lunatic broke into a wild fantastic dance, rattling his boxes and shaking his horrid rosary with demoniac frenzy.

The countess was here relieved from her involuntary attendance upon the frightful exhibition, by the approach of Prince Henry, who having consigned the madman to proper care, dispersed the crowd, and permitted the train proceed.

In reply to Adela's anxious inquiries, he informed her that the miserable creature whom she had seen, had belonged to a mad-rabble, that set off for the Holy Land without leader or guide, held together only by the strange infatuation of adoring a goat and a goose, which they believed to be filled with the divine spirit.

Their malignant zeal was directed princ.i.p.ally against the Jews, whom they exterminated wherever they came. The Hungarians denied them a pa.s.sage through the country. The fanatics attempted to force their way across the Danube. The nation rose to arms, and for several days smote them with such slaughter, that the fields were strewed with the slain, and the very waters of the river were hidden by the mult.i.tude of the corpses.

"Heaven punished their impiety with a loss of reason," said Adela, with a sigh.

"Their impiety began with a loss of reason," said Henry, drily. "Thy pardon, sweet sister, but the heralds of thy grand expedition and the tidings they bear, remind one of the evil messengers of Job, each man having escaped alone to tell thee."

"We have as yet gained intelligence only from the ill-appointed and barbarous hordes that enc.u.mbered rather than aided the expedition. When we shall receive news from warriors, whose heroic courage executes the plans of temperate wisdom, I trust that the disasters of our foes will form the theme of conversation," said Adela, with much spirit.

"Nay, I meant not to vex thee," returned Henry, soothingly, "and to prove my desire of peace, I have brought with me a flag of truce," and he handed her a letter from her husband.

Adela's letter from Stephen contained the most gratifying intelligence.

Completely duped by the artful policy of Alexius, the count gave a glowing description of his reception at Constantinople, and the splendid ceremony by which the Latin chiefs did homage to the Greek Emperor, for the cities they hoped to win in Palestine.

He described the magnificence of the city, and enlarged upon the advantages which the holy legions would derive from this allegiance, both in supplies of money and provisions. He stated that Alexius had already furnished s.h.i.+ps to convey them across the Bosphorus, that a part of the army were already in Asia Minor, and expatiated upon the munificence of their Imperial host, who each week presented the leader of the expedition with as much gold as two slaves could bear upon their shoulders.

Delicately alluding to the favors bestowed upon himself, he closed the epistle by presenting the monarch's request to the mother, that her son Stephen should be sent to Constantinople, to receive princely nurture at the most refined and elegant court in the world.

Tears of affection and gratification filled the beautiful eyes of the countess, as gazing upon her blooming boy, she murmured, "My son may yet wear the diadem of the Caesars. My father was styled The Conqueror, because he added a poor island to his duchy of Normandy, but what t.i.tle shall he bear who restores a continent to the dominion of Christendom?"

For the three following months the countess received no certain intelligence concerning the fate of the crusade. There were rumors of famine in the christian camp, and stories of dreadful battles with the Infidels; but the statements were vague and unsatisfactory.

Prince Henry had been absent for some time quelling an insurrection in Normandy, and the loneliness of Adela's situation, together with the anxiety of her mind, filled her thoughts with melancholy forebodings, and subdued the natural vivacity of her manners.

The prince upon his return, was alarmed by the pallor of her countenance, and the sadness of her tones.

"Cheer thee, my sister," said he, "thou wert, indeed, a prophet, to declare that the victories of the warriors would compensate for the disasters of the rabble crowds."

"Art thou the bearer of good tidings?" said Adela, a flush of hope irradiating her features.

"Aye, verity," returned the prince, with exultation, "a well-authenticated account of the victories of the cross, embellished with as pretty a Pa.s.sage of Arms in Cupid's tilt-yard, as the Romancers could well desire."

"Sport not with my impatience," said Adela. "Tell me the name of thy messenger, and the news he brings."