Tales from French History

Front matter

Catas ixom Jfratrlj pistcrjr. EY PHŒBE M. FEILDEN, AUTHOR OF "HELEN AND ISABEL," "LOST AND FOUND," etc. LONDON: WILLIAM MACINTOSH, 24, Pateknostee Roav. 1871. PEEFACE. The foUowing tales do not aim at taking a stand by the side of modern Historical Romances ; but it has been suggested that they might possibly interest young students of Mediæval History, and with this hope they have been published. In the tale of " Robert and Bertha," the fictitious characters introduced are Father Hubert, Father Antoine, and Marie, Bertha's attendant. In the tale of " Reginald de Versey," the fictitious •characters are, de Rancon, de Coucy, de Versey, Beatrice de Valerie, Heloise de Vdlette, and Adele. Marcel is mentioned in the Chronicles of de Joinville as "a vile traitor of a sergeant," who betrayed the Christian army into the hands of the enemy during the retreat from Mansourah.

This treacherous deed gives the only his torical foundation for his character as introduced into the tale. An apology must be offered for some slight chronological anachronism which the exigencies of the second story have rendered necessary. Bonchurch, May, 1871. ERRATA Page I, for Emles read Elides .. 31, for father read path „ 1*8, for Also read Alas .. 190. for new-formed raid aew-fouiid .. l'Jl. fur lovers rend lovers BUS, far Bartlieleme scarcely mid Bavthcleme had scarcely THE STOEY OF EOBERT AND BEETHA. It was a day in the year 970, during the reign of Lothaire of France. A blue sky looked down upon Paris, the sun shone brightly, the air was clear, Te Deum was being sung in church, and rejoicings were going on in the little Court of Hugh, Count of Paris, Mayor of the Palace, and chief among the nobles of France.

These signs of gladness were occasioned by a new honour which had befallen the great count in the birth of a little son, heir to his increasing grandeur; andAvhile the Countess Adelaide shed tears of quiet joy over the baby boy, who Avould bear her company during her lord's frequent absences at the wars, Hugh's heart swelled high with joy and triumph through the thought that the power for which he toiled and fought would not end with his own Use. Before many days had passed, the baptism of the young lord was celebrated with great pomp ; the Archbishop of Rheims, Avith attendant priests and a large suite of retainers, having arrived to perform the ceremony. They caUed the boy Robert, after his grandfather, who, being brother of a former king, Endes, had, after the death of Charles IV, through the might of his arms, caused B himseU to be proclaimed king, but had been killed in battle before he could enjoy his honours.

Part I. Chapter

I. Great festivities were being held at Saumur. For Louis the ninth of France had summoned his vassals thither, including many ecclesiastics, for the performance of the ceremony by which his brother Alphonse was to be put into possession of the province of Poictou. A magnificent banquet, which had been given in the market halls, was just concluded, and the king and his court had withdrawn to the pleasure-room of a neighbour ing castle for dancing and other amusements. The queen, Margaret of Provence, was not present ; but the queen-mother, Blanche of Castile, and her attendant ladies added much to the brilliancy and interest of the assemblage. And, — while music sounded and the numerous gallants approached the ladies of their choice and prepared to begin the merry dance, — the still beautiful Blanche sat in state, regarding Avith a somewhat severe and haughty air the gay scene which Avas little to her taste.

Presently, hoAvever, her manner changed. A knight belonging to the royal household was passing by, and, as he glanced casually in the direction of her chair, she graciously invited him to come near, and had soon drawn him into a deep and ardent conversation. Sir Hugh de Rancon, for this was the name of the knight whom Queen Blanche had thus honoured by especial notice, knew well how to suit his mood to that of those with whom he held companionship. And he had succeeded in gaining with Queen Blanche a character for sanctity and devotion which he Avas far from deserving. He possessed in no ordinary degree that peculiar power, — a power which would seem to be independent of intellectual or moral superiority, — by which some men are able to draw into rapport, so to speak, with their own, the spirits of others for good or evd.

Over Blanche he had exercised this power. And despite her determined character, unknown to hcrseU, her strong mind was much under the sway of his influence. The subjects of the conversation in which they were engaged were religious and political. They discussed the affairs of the kingdom : and the queen expressed her joy in the good understanding existing between her sons Louis and Alphonse. They spoke of the coming ceremony at Poictiers, in which the vassals of the Court were to render homage to their liege lord. Then, hushing their voices and glancing cautiously around, they spoke of the Count de la Marche. And when the queen declared herseU happy to see, on this occasion, his loyal demeanour towards the king, and the friendliness of his manner towards his rightful suzerain, the Count of Poictou, de Rancon gravely shook his head.

"You distrust this apparent duty and submission?" asked Blanche. " Nay, madame, I doubt not the faith of the noble Hugh de Lusignan," replied de Rancon, "but I fear the influence of his haughty and imperious wife, who cares rather to have it remembered that she is the Queen-dowager of England, than that her lord owes homage to the wise and holy King of France ! " "But you, also, have influence with Hugh de la Marche?" " Ay, madam, and right earnestly shall my poor influence be exerted in the cause of loyalty and honour. Nor will I fail to acquaint you should I learn aught that might give me cause to fear an approaching rebeUion." After a while the conversation drifted to a new topic, one that had an especial interest for de Rancon. The Lady Heloise de Villette, Avho Avas Queen Blanche's favourite maid of honour, and Avas regarded by de Rancon as his promised bride, formed the new and interesting sub ject of their conversation.

Heloise was the daughter of Count John de Villette, who held in fief a castle in the province of Champagne. Her father's disposition was so gentle, tender and pitiful, that in days gone by he would have stedfastly refused to betroth the motherless child, whom he loved so truly, to any one who had not gained her affections. He Avould have scorned to follow the example of the many knights and nobles of that day who overlooked their daughter's happiness, or sacrificed it to their own ambition. But, alas, his never vigorous mind had been graduaUy giving way beneath the effects of repeated soitoav, together with the ill-health consequent on a neglected wound; and at length he had sunk into the imbecility of premature old age. It is not, then, surprising that in this helpless state VERSEY. he should have succumbed to the influence of de Rancon's powers of fascination ; that Sir Hugh should have found it no difficult matter to make the count see with his eyes, think with his mind, feel as the passionate selfishness of Bis feeling dictated.

In short it is no wonder that he should have succeeded, by degrees, in persuading him that it would be for his daughter's happiness to permit an alliance between her and the heir of the de Rancon domains; and that, finally, he should have gained his ■consent to the desired betrothal. To do the knight justice, he really loved Heloise with such love as men of his stamp are capable of feeling : a love Httle in accordance with the spirit of the pure laAvs of •chivalry ; a love which had its rise in selfishness, and the aim of which was only seU-gratification. But other motives besides those inspired by his sentiments towards the Lady Heloise were at work in de Rancon's mind, prompting him to put into effect his determination to obtain possession of her hand. The Count de ViUette had no surviving son.

Therefore, according to the agreement between him and his liege lord the king, on his death the fair demesne of Villette would revert to the crown, to be bestowed, in vassalage, on whomsoever the sovereign should please to elect as the present count's successor. That the fair and just-minded Louis would make this election in favour of the husband of the dead count's daughter, was the confident expectation of de Rancon. Thus love and ambition for a time worked in unison within his breast : but they Avorked warily. It Avas his policy as well as his whim to seek to conquer the heart of Heloise before claiming her hand. So he willed that the count's consent to a betrothal should, for the present, be kept a secret from his lady-love. He understood the character of Heloise well enough to be aware that she was capable of taking a desperate course rather than permit herself to be drawn into a union against her wiU, against the promptings of her heart.

He felt his power over her, but he was sensible of an ansAvering power of repulsion within her mind ; and to subdue this was his present aim. But it was Queen Blanche's earnest desire to see her favourite, Heloise, married to the knight for whom she had so great a regard ; and she often urged him at once to claim the right her father had given him to make her his be trothed. "It marvels me, Sir Knight," she said, as they talked together now, "that you should delay longer to claim her as your right ; that you should hesitate to do that which is for the maiden's welfare as well as for your own." "Madam," replied de Rancon, "with your gracious permission, I wdl win her heart ere I force her to become my wife." " Think you then, Sir Knight, that the maiden would dare to resist the will of her father, the command of her king, the desire of her queen and mistress ?

" "Madam, the Lady Heloise has gained, through the companionship of her royal mistress, an intense devotion to Holy Church. Were I to press her against her will to become my betrothed, it were easy for her to believe she heard the voice of our Holy Mother calHng her to dedicate her Use to the service of religion in a convent." " Ay, but she has been taught by her mistress obedience to the king," replied Blanche. " And the king, madam ? Is not he devoted above all things to the interest of Holy Church ? " "Meanwhile, fair knight," returned the queen, evading a direct reply, " do you fear no other influence, no influence of a more earthly nature than that of Holy Church, Avhich may be gaining an ascendancy whde you thus delay to take your right ? Fear you naught that may be effected by yon crowd of eager claimants ?

" and she glanced in the direc tion of numerous knights and esquires who were assiduously surrounding the chair of the Lady Heloise. "Madame," returned the knight, haughtily, " I fear no one of those presumptuous aspirants more than I should fear him were he to become my antagonist in mortal combat ! Think you the heart of my lady-love is stirred by such as they ? Nay, gracious madam, if it please you to regard the countenance of the Lady Heloise, you will perceive that she receives each one with a glance of quiet disdain." It indeed did not seem as if the Lady Heloise were moved by any of the adorers who approached her footstool. Her beautiful face certainly seemed to brighten with each gaze that was turned upon it, but its animation proceeded from the earnestness of the thought that was passing through her own mind, and she had the air of one whose spirit was abstracted from the gay scene in Avhich she was forced to bear a part.

Or if the witty saying of some gallant provoked a playful smile, and caused her eyes to sparkle with merriment, the change Avas only momentary, and her countenance resumed again its wonted serious, though sweet and gracious, character. "Madam," replied de Rancon, " Avith your permission, I will now myseU venture to the side of my lady-love, while you remain watching the effect produced by my approach." So saying he made his obeisance, and leaving Blanche, proceeded toward the spot where the Lady Heloise was seated. By the mere force, as it appeared, of his will he cleared a way for himself through the croAvd by which she was surrounded ; and, on reaching her, he caused all to fall back by means of a haughty glance which seemed to say, " It is my right to be here ! " But then his manner changed.

It became tender, earnest, gentle, even humble, as he bent his eyes on Heloise, and gradually drew her into conversation. And, whereas on his first coming up she had turned away from him Avith a shrinking gesture, soon she Avas giving to him her undivided attention, raising an animated face to his, and listening with rapt interest to his eloquent words. Queen Blanche was not the only witness of this scene. A knight, with a countenance that was at once brave, gentle, and saint- Uke, had for some time been watching Heloise out of eyes that expressed the pure and steadfast love he felt for her. But at the moment in which he saw de Rancon forcing his way to the lady's side his eyes had flashed indignantly, and his face had lost its peaceful serenity ; and now, with trouble and hot resentment in his breast, Erard de Coucy stood looking at his lovely cousin and the hypocritical knight, by her side, who was exercising over her for evd his peculiar power.

Nor was Erard the only indignant looker-on. A youth, in page's costume, but taller and more manly in appearance than the greater number of his feUows, had also been gazing devotedly from a distance on the Lady Heloise de Villette, whose marvellous beauty had that day inspired his imagination with feelings that were altogether new to him. His heart one moment glowing with bright and joyous fancies, the next sweUing with proud and discontented thoughts, he had continued to gaze from afar, while other adorers pressed forward. " Ah," he had sighed to himself at length, " were I only in the place of one of those chevaliers, the strength of my love would surely conquer, and I should become the chosen knight of my lady-love." While the page thus sighed, de Rancon had come for ward ; and, as he watched the overbearing knight throwing down, as it were, all before him, and winning his goal, anger had gained the ascendancy in his breast.

And now, as he still stood at his watching-post, gazing at his fortunate rival, his patience lost all bounds, and, forgetting the presence of those around him, he exclaimed, half aloud, " Yon eA'il-faced knight must be the foul fiend himself ! " But he was recaUed to a sense of his indecorum by the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and, looking up with a start, he saw, gazing at him with an expression that was at once stern and kind, a gentleman, whom he took for one of the king's lords. Remarkable was this person for the simplicity of his dress; but his manner was noble and gentle, and his presence commanding. His face was ex ceedingly fair and beautiful, and expressive of strength, sweetness, and intellect. " Have a care, Sir Page," he said with an authoritative air, "lest he whom you name thus rashly obey your thoughtless call."

"Bon Sieur, I called him not," returned the page, boldly, when he had recovered from his first confusion. " But I pray you turn your eye in the direction of yon dark-faced knight, and tell me if I err in thinking that I perceive the likeness of the evil one resting upon him ? Yet, Holy Mary, were I but a knight, and entitled to meet him as an equal in a fair combat, his heart should feel the touch of steel like any other mortal, and his proud head bow low, and" — here the page abruptly paused, in an instant adding, bitterly, " But, alas, I am only a page ! " " Methinks, profane youth, you have much to learn ere you be fit for the holy state of knighthood! Are you ignorant of that which Holy Church says touching him who rules not his own spirit ? Revengeful feeling such as that which you have just expressed is unbecoming and unchristian, save where the enemies of our holy religion are concerned.

Have you no fear, moreover, lest She, whose sacred name you have so lightly uttered, should strike you dumb for blasphemy?" The page was about to make a haughty reply, but there Avas that in his companion's manner which caused the words he would have spoken to die away on his lips, and he sank his head, abashed. " Yet," went on the knight, this time in an encouraging tone, " yet I admire your brave spirit, and would fain see you raised to the rank for Avhich you are an aspirant. Nay, look up, gentle youth, and tell me your name, and inform me wherefore your master, the Sieur de Joinville, thinks fit to retain you for so long a time in the garb of a page?" " My name, Sir Knight," began the page, is Reginald. de Versey " " De Versey !" interrupted his companion; 'tis a brave name and an honoured !

May you prove worthy of your father who fell, fighting for his king ; and of your grand father, who died of wounds received when warring in the Holy Land ! I have heard something of your story from my well-beloved friend, the Sieur de Joinville : I Avould fain learn more of it from your own lips." " You have heard of my lady's vow to my mother, on her death-bed, to keep me ever about her person as her own page ? You have heard of my late master's vow to raise me to the rank of esquire in the service of the Sieur de JoinviUe, and to let me folloAv in the train of no other knight? You have heard that, dying ere I had gone through the seven years' training he considered needful, he made the same vow binding on his son, my present lord?" "Ay! and well is it for your noble master that he keeps the sacred vow, for which God and His saints will call him to account.

But it marvels me, Sir Laggard, that you should not yet have passed over the time allotted for your training in warlike exercises ! " The youth's eyes flashed fire. " Think you, then, Sir Knight," he cried, " that of my own free will I have watched those inferior to myseU in years, ay, and, if my noble master speaks truly, in capacity, also, pass me by, and obtain the promotion for Avhich I vainly thirst ? Ah, that my father had lived at least one other year ! You have heard my poor mother's story, Bon Sieur?" Reginald's manner softened as he named his mother, and his eye grew moist, and his lips for a moment trembled. "You have heard of her overwhelming grief at my father's death, of her sickness, of her refusal to part Avith me, of her flight, of our return to the Castle de Join ville, when I was long past the age at which a youth of noble degree should naturally enter upon his warUke training ?

Yet, you mistake, Sir Knight ! The seven years of my service as page are already past. Would that it had been so, some eight months ago, when one of my master's esquires put on the hauberk ! But, alas, the appointed time had not then expired, and the Sieur de Joinville refused to raise me to the rank of an esquire. And since he ever follows after the king in simplicity of manners, he AviU not add another to the number of his esquires. Thus it is, you perceive, noble knight, that I am doomed yet to wait. Can you wonder that at times I am driven almost to madness by the tedium of my inglorious existence?" "Your case is a hard one, fair youth," returned the knight. " What say you, — will you leave your present service, and follow in the train of a knight belonging to the royal household ? The king holds in high esteem your noble master, the Sieur de Joinville ; yet I myself am on terms of even closer intimacy with Louis of France."

For an instant the youth's eyes glistened ; but then he shook his head, smothered a sigh, and answered firmly, " No, Sir Knight ; my lord and lady have been ever kind to those of my name, and I will not forsake their service unless the king himself should command me to follow him to the Holy Land!" "So, Sir Page, you can be faithful as well as bold! Right ; it will be the better for you. The king would be the last man to encourage you to leave those to whom you have pledged your faith. Yet the day may not be far distant when you are caUed to follow his fortunes in the Holy Land. AVhat say you, will you win your spurs in fighting against the enemies ofthe Cross of Christ?" The youth's face flushed with enthusiasm. " It is my one desire ! " he rapturously exclaimed. " It was G my promise to my mother.

It was my solemn vow as the day of her death approached. It is my dream by day and by night. Mean you, in truth, that our holy king con templates a crusade ? Think you it will be soon ? Ah, that the day had already come ! In the name of the holy cross I will fight my way through the thickest of the danger, and will die by the king's side, defending him with my last breath ! " "Stay, stay; not so fast, fair youth," returned the knight, with a calm smde of mingled pathos and amusement. " Many a year may pass before King Louis is able to enter upon a holy crusade against the Infidel. For now our country needs his presence ; and he wdl have to gird u\, his loins, perchance, for yet many and many a battle to he fought at home. Yet I charge you, Master Reginald de Versey, by all you hold sacred, not to aUow time to efface from your memory the solemn vow made in your childhood to your mother.

The temptation to break your promise may be strong as years go forward. You may be obliged to sacrifice much that you hold dear; to resist the pleadings of your lady-loA'e ; to forego marriage, because you are bound to remain unbelted till you can war against the foes of Holy Church in the East. Yet remember, if you keep not your pledge, you will turn your back on the Cross of Christ, and will call down upon your head the curse of our Blessed Lady, the Mother of God ! " " Think you, Sir Knight, that aught could tempt me to break the vow in which I glory !" returned Reginald. " Yet," he added with a heavy sigh, " if the day for which I thirst should be far distant, would that at least I might be per mitted to fight for our holy king against his enemies at home !" " He bids you fight for him this very moment, Sir Page.

I bring you the king's commands." "The king's commands! I, me! exclaimed Reginald, lookmg down in beAvilderment on his page's costume. " Ay, Master de Versey, the king has an enemy even here. No other than the dark spirit that has kept you, hitherto, from mingling in the amusements which it is his pleasure you should enjoy. He wiUs that you should cast off this discontented mood, and be happy." As he spoke the knight cast on him such a piercing glance that the page's eyes sank abashed. " He has read my soul !" he thought. . Then, looking up with the intention of making some reply, he discovered that his companion had left him. So in obedience to the king's commands he proceeded to take part in the merry dance, and was soon gayest amongst the gay. Meanwhde the unnamed knight went up to Sir Hugh de Rancon, and in a voice of authority, which de Rancon did not dare to disobey, called him from the side of Heloise.

For an instant the forsaken lady gazed as though spell bound on the retreating figure of her lover ; but soon she turned away her eyes with a sigh of relief, and then glancing restlessly around her, " Ah," she said to herseU, " that I were free from this noise and gaiety ! Ah, that I were alone in the quiet of a convent ceU, where, undisturbed, I might meditate on sacred things." Her glance rested for a moment on Erard de Coucy, and, as though he had received a command in words, instantly he was by her side. " Erard," she said, in a tone of agitation, while she rose and motioned him to draw her aside, " Erard, I would flee from this ! Aid me to escape to where I may breathe freely and think holy thoughts which may chase away this dark spirit which he has cast over my soul. Why have you stayed away from me for so long, cousin ! why did you not come to me, when " "When he was with you, Heloise?

Nay, it is not permitted me to interfere with him who is all but your betrothed !" " My betrothed ? Never !" exclaimed Heloise, vehemently. " I will flee from court and hide me in a convent, I wfll die rather than be betrothed to him. They shall never force me to wed Sir Hugh de Rancon." " But your father, Heloise ?" "My father!" returned Heloise, sadly: "Ah, Erard, little you know my gentle father if you deem that wittingly and wdlingly he could allow de Rancon to break the holy laws of chivalry by pressing upon me a suit which I hold distasteful ! Nay, in days gone by, when my father was himseU, — was the keen-witted, bold-hearted knight, — credit me, cousin, it had been far otherwise. But, alas ! my poor father in his present enfeebled state of mind and body has not strength to resist the wondrous power that accompanies Sir Hugh de Rancon's skdfully framed words."

" And yet, Heloise," said Erard, musingly ; " and yet, de Rancon is brave, noble, the heir to a fair fief, knightly to look upon, and gentle in manner to one he loves ! And methinks, fair cousin, I have seen you listen to his words with a favour which you bestow upon no other knight ; methinks I have seen you glance at him with a look more gracious than others dare expect ! " " And why should I not listen to my father's friend ?" broke in Heloise, haughtily. " In truth, cousin, he speaks words which it is passing sweet to hear. Fair words of holy import such as methinks might be whispered by the heavenly voice of the blessed St. John whose festival we keep to-day." " Ay," rephed Erard, a touch of bitterness in his tone, " you only prove to me that it is as I deemed. Erard de Coucy were as little welcome in the eyes of the Lady Heloise, as in those of yon arrogant knight, dared he to approach her side at an untimely season."

"Nay, you know me not, Erard," cried Heloise, changing her mien and speaking in a tone of mournful vehemence, " you cannot read my fears. Oh, Erard, save me from yon dark knight : I fear him ! He frightens me with his strange fierce gaze. I dread, I know not what I dread, when I think of Sir Hugh de Eancon." She looked shrinkingly around, and drew closer to her kinsman as she spoke, and he soothingly repUed — " Save you ! Ah, Heloise, would I not die to save you from the Ughtest touch of harm !" " Nay, rather live for me, dear cousin," returned Heloise, in sweet and pleading tones, but with a manner so frank and unembarrassed that the sudden Ught which her Avords had called into Erard's eyes as quickly died away. " Ah, if it might be so," he began eagerly ; but then with Aveary dejection he continued, " yet no, you need me not, Heloise.

You would be happy though I were to cease to exist." " Erard, Erard !" cried Heloise. " The kindest, sweetest, only friend I have, and you can speak like this !" "Forgive me, Heloise, and beUeve that my graceless discontent was only for the moment. Believe that your sisterly affection is dearer to me ten thousandfold than aU the world besides. And that I may love you with a love so intense that nothing can quench it " " Nay, not so, dear Erard," interrupted Heloise, with a look of pain. " Heloise, Avould you rob me of my only joy ?" "There is a better joy," returned his cousin. "Erard, you may be called to fight for Holy Church. You may aid in recovering the tomb of the blessed Jesus. You will have the lov*e of God, of His holy mother, and of all the blessed saints to gladden your life, to sweeten the bitterness of pain, to soothe the pangs of death !"