The sign of triumph : a romance of the Children's Crusade

Front matter

CANNOT LEAVE THE LIBRARY.

Chap.

n* s S*.

Introduction

Ever since chance first led me into some research on the subject of the Children’s Crusade, I have been astonished at the manner in which historians have allowed this event, so pitiful and so marvellous, to drop almost completely out of sight ; or, at the best, have dismissed it with a paragraph of a few lines.

So utterly inconceivable is the whole movement from the standpoint of to-day, that one would be justified in doubting its truth, were there not some nineteen or twenty authorities on the subject, five of these chroniclers having lived at the time, and several others having drawn their information from chronicles since destroyed.

Aside from the interest which this Crusade holds in itself, — a Crusade which lost to the homes of France and Germany nearly one hundred thousand children, — it is interesting to* the student, showing, as nothing else does, the strong religious feeling and the superstition of the Middle Ages,

Vlll

Introduction

There were three different armies of children, two from Germany and one from France, where the movement originated. In this story I have followed the French children in their march to the sea, though these suffered far less than either of the other two armies, one of which left Cologne and walked seven hundred miles, over the Alps, through a hostile country, where they were murdered and kidnapped, besides suffering starvation, cold, and fatigue. Of this thirty thousand, only about six thousand reached Genoa, and these were the hardiest and oldest of the boys. The other army started also from Cologne, but proceeded to Brindisi. The same misery and disappointment met them all at the Mediterranean, but the German children at least escaped being sold into slavery, which was the fate of the French children. They turned home discouraged, or stayed in the towns along the coast, adding to the criminal population for years after.

Nothing was heard of the French children who set sail so hopefully, until eighteen years later ; then an escaped priest returned to tell the tale of their sufferings under heathen masters.

I have tried — yet, I fear, failed miserably — to set before you the pathos of these thousands of young lives going down to death and worse, led by a beautiful idea to a dreadful reality. If once in imagination

Introduction

IX you have heard the tramp of those myriad small feet, they are not easy to forget, and to read the simple chronicle of their wandering is to read through a mist of tears.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

“ She stood shamefaced and miserable ” (See

Page IQ4) ...... Frontispiece

“ He backed toward the door of the inn ” . 42

“ Before him, pushed to its very edge, was the

“ Her finger softly touched . . . the scar . 336

THE

SIGN OF TRIUMPH

Chapter I

In the year 1212, the town of Chartres, situated on the River Eure, equidistant from Paris on the one hand and Orleannois on the other, was surrounded by a well-built rampart, under whose walls a little stream slipped in, and, having traversed a part of the enclosure, as quietly gurgled out to join the Eure, scarcely stayed in its coming or going by the heavy iron water-gates, whose strong bars offered a sturdy resistance to enemies trying this mode of ingress. From this stream the town drew its chief supply of water, and strict were the laws passed by the worthy bourgeoisie against any pollution of it. At the lower water-gate, just before it disappeared under the frowning rampart, the women were permitted to do their scant washing, and here, on such days, sat those self-elected judges which every community has known since men gathered together in corporate bodies ; here, while stains were deftly removed from linen or wool, a blacker and more enduring mark was often rubbed into a neighbour’s character; here died many a fair reputation slain by half a dozen careless words.

Since early morning of the day on which my story opens, a straggling procession of serfs and villains, together with a fair sprinkling of their betters, had traversed the dusty highway leading to the town, and demanded admittance from the guard at the gate. The queer little shops along the narrow, irregular streets were all tight closed, except in the quarter where the corporation of pastry cooks did business. Here the doors were thrown wide, and a tempting display of king’s cakes and sweets sent out appealing odours on the heavy morning air, and in the low doorway of each shop stood the master, or an alert prentice boy, on the watch for stray custom; for as yet business was dull and buyers few. At the upper end of the street a crowd had gathered, and every window in the vicinity showed one or more heads leaning in eager effort to lose no part of the fierce discussion going on between two angry, red-faced bourgeois, who tossed accusation and denial, threat and defiance, back and forth in such swift fashion, that the gaping crowd of curiosity mongers had much ado to keep pace with the quarrel. The two combatants forming the nucleus of this gathering were each clinging to an arm of a frightened countryman, who had lost his cap of linsey-woolsey, and seemed in a fair way to lose most of his clothing between the angry adversaries.

“ The man was a good arm’s length nearer my shop than thine when thou didst solicit him, I’ll make my oath to that before the syndic,” loudly protested the larger man, emphasizing his declaration by a jerk at the leathern blouse of the villain between them.

“ And I will make mine that he had crossed the line by the length of my hand, ere I ever said word to him,” retorted the other, also using the longsuffering countryman to give point to his speech.

“ Nay, but the fellow shall decide the matter for himself. Tell me, sirrah, wert thou not here?” questioned number one, dragging his victim about five feet to one side of the spot on which they stood.

“ Have a care, fellow, how thou dost affirm falsely; this is a question for the law’s settling. Now say truly, man, and have no fear of yon enraged brute ; wert thou not here ? ” and again the unwilling captive was dragged to another spot nearer by six feet to the last speaker’s shop.

“ I’ll have thee before the syndic ere the day is past, and see if thou wilt be let to steal my custom and smirch my character as well,” cried number one, dropping the countryman’s arm to shake his clinched fist in the face of his adversary. “ These, my neighbours, shall be called to testify in my behalf, and thou shalt see thyself quickly confounded.”

At this a loud murmur arose amongst the crowd, some in support of one party, others loud in behalf of his opponent.

“ As to that, I will have thee to the corporation hall, for putting thy clinched fist in my face, besides accusing me falsely. Thou shalt be pilloried for this, an I live but the day out.”

During this altercation, unnoticed by any of the onlookers, another person had joined the company, a man of middle age and dignified bearing, whose air of authority spoke him a person of importance. He wore a flat cap on his head, from which his hair fell to his shoulders, terminating abruptly, as by one sharp cut from the barber’s shears. His person was enveloped in a flowing cape, bearing on the lower left-hand border the insignia of the corporation of pastry cooks of the city of Chartres. When the crowd became aware of his presence, they quickly made a passage for him, which, following, he came upon the two angry bourgeois ere they were aware of his nearness. Seeing him, the syndic of their guild, both men suddenly ceased their clamour, and the unfortunate villain, left to himself, began a dazed search for his lost head-covering.

“ How now, sirs,” demanded the newcomer, sternly, ‘ 1 what means this unseemly wrangle? Hath trade on a sudden grown so dull in the good town of Chartres that merchants must needs pummel each other and call ill names over the sale of a bean-cake? ”

As for the chapfallen combatants, but now so voluble in threat to have the matter before the syndic, each was for leaving the other to state the case, both not a little shamefaced at being caught thus red-handed. It was not until the syndic had asked a second time for an explanation that they took courage and burst out, both at once, in a stream of protest and accusation. He was not long, in spite of the confusion, in coming at the nature of their dispute, and having administered a sharp rebuke to both parties, and bade them appear before him the next day to hear further of the matter, he turned to the countryman who, making strenuous efforts to escape, had been kept in by the press of the crowd.

“ Come, goodman,” he said, peremptorily, “ settle this matter for me. Where stood you when Master Bontemp solicited you, and with whom were you minded to trade? ”

The yokel thus addressed twirled his newly recovered cap and shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “ As to that, worshipful master, I have not wherewith to buy of any, my pouch being empty save for a copper coin meant for the priest, to buy a mass for the repose of my father’s departed soul. I but peered within the door of Master Bontemp’s shop, a-trying to stay my stomach on the rich savour which floated through,” answered the man, grinning sheepishly.

At this the crowd began hooting and laughing, and the two pastry cooks, more mortified than ever, retired in haste into their shops, followed by the jeers of their neighbours. The syndic, in disgust, passed on, and the countryman at last made good his escape, while the idlers, seeing that the situation promised nothing further of sport or excitement, soon melted away.

Even during this little time the number of people in the street had increased, and continued to do so, augmented every minute by the thin stream of travellers which trickled slowly but steadily into town, as well as by the better class of the bourgeoisie, who now came from the houses and joined the loiterers. All, without exception, were in holiday attire, and they gathered in knots, gossiping and looking apprehensively toward the sky which momentarily threatened a steady downpour. Some drifted toward the cathedral, which stood partly finished, having been twice destroyed by fire, and being then in process of rebuilding for the third time. Others gathered before the inn, over whose door the rotund aubergist was busy fastening a fresh green bush to his sign-pole.

“ Of what use to put the green over thy door, neighbour ? ” questioned a roistering blade, whose red face and tattered garments testified to a knowledge of the subject on which he spoke. “ Hast thou never heard the proverb that 4 Good wine needs no bush ’ ? Surely thy brew is fair enough sort, Master Yves, to need no heralding.”

“ Ay, true, man, and if these, my neighbours, were my only customers, there would be little need of the bush to show them the way to Yves le Breton’s cellar, but to-day the town swarms with those from the country-side, and ’tis welcome to the stranger to know where he may find that which will both quench his thirst and cheer his spirit,” answered the innkeeper, finishing his task and descending from the heavy oaken stool upon which he had been standing.

In the public square where stood the pillory, having on its front the armorial bearings of the Count of Chartres, there were preparations for business, for here booths were being arranged for the local fair which was to open as soon as the religious procession was over. For this was St. Mark’s Day, the day of the Black Crosses, when priest and people walked in solemn procession through the streets, with black draped crosses borne aloft before them, chanting the sorrow-laden words of the litany, and supplicating mercy in behalf of the Christians beleaguered in the Holy Land. This service, also in commemoration of those who had already fallen in the crusades, was now being used at the command of the Pope to arouse the indifference o>f the people to another effort in behalf of the Holy Sepulchre.

After the manner of the thrifty bourgeoisie, who were obliged by law to close their shops just when the religious ceremonial had attracted larger custom to the town, it had become a practice to open a market in the square, and thus turn even their pious deeds to good account.

While the few merchants thus made their preparations for gain, and the citizens waited the procession, weighing the chance of escaping the threatened deluge, the guard, who usually held his watch from the lookout above the south gate of the city, had descended from his place and stood beneath the deep arch of the gateway, where he could give jovial greeting to such of the incomers as were old acquaintances. Standing so, resting upon his halberd, which he carried more for form's sake, or as a sign of his office, rather than for use, his eyes were caught by the sight of a lad who had paused just beyond the drawbridge in the middle of the highway, his gaze riveted in fascinated horror on the ghastly remains of two human bodies swinging from the gibbet hard by on the hill. The rising wind which stirred them also set in motion the flock of crows that frequented the spot ; they drifted around, and again settled on their prey like a windstirred cloud of black. At the sound of the deafening chorus of caws which they emitted, and the sight of the swaying bodies, which seemed to beckon him to join their fleshless company, the boy gave a strong shudder.

“ Ay, ’tis a pretty sight and one most fit for young eyes. Look long upon it, and lay its lesson well to heart, lest thou come some day to swing there thyself," admonished the guard, seeing the boy’s stare of fixed horror.

At the sound of the soldier’s voice, the child

IO seemed to waken as from a dream, yet without having comprehended the words addressed to him. He loosed his fascinated gaze, and, turning toward the drawbridge, crossed it, pausing before the big guard, who looked down on him curiously, attracted by an unusual something in his appearance. He was about twelve years of age and not very well grown, for both body and face had a narrow, pinched look, which spoke loudly of scant food. He wore leathern braies and a loose smock of sheepskin ending just at the knee. This was belted about the waist with a bit of leather. His head was covered by a cap of sheepskin, from which much of the wool had been worn and torn away, its grimy colour attesting long use. A shepherd’s staff in his hand announced his occupation, and his rough hide buskins, splashed by mud and grimed by dust, told a keen observer that he had walked far and passed through both bog and upland.

“ A runaway hind, I dare be sworn,” muttered the guard, as he gazed on the slight figure and met the lad’s deep-set, dark eyes, which seemed to look inward rather than outward.

“ Is there yet time, or have I come too late ? ” questioned the child, eagerly, his expectant face trembling between hope and fear.

“ Time and to spare, thou runaway. The fair

The Sign of Triumph n

begins not ’til the litany is said. But have a care lest thy master catch thee, for then thou wilt come to think that thou hast paid too great a price for thy fairing,” advised the man, stirred for an instant to pity at sight of the meagre, weary-looking little figure.

“ Nay, sir, ’tis not for the fair that I came; ’tis to see the Black Crosses and hear of the Crusades. Hast thou taken the cross ? ” He put the question in a tone which implied that anybody who could certainly would.

“ Get you gone with your talk of Crusades and Crusaders,” cried the man, angrily, his brief spark of pity blown out by the introduction of an irritating subject. “ As if, indeed, the land had not bled enough of men and money that priests must needs cry more. Get you gone, I say, get you gone ! ” he repeated his command, working himself swiftly into a passion as he spoke. He had even raised his hand, with the intention of enforcing his order by a smart blow, when his descending arm was caught and held fast from behind, and a jovial voice admonished him in laughing tones: “Nay, nay, comrade, take a man of thine own mettle ; ” then, to the little hind who stood dazed and frightened at the guard’s sudden outburst, too used to blows to attempt any avoidance of them : “ Let's see how fleet thy heels are. Go.”

The words were scarcely spoken before the child, galvanized into life, darted away, and, turning a corner of the masonry, was lost to view in a second.

In the meantime, the soldier had rounded fiercely on the interferer with his authority, to meet the laughing eyes of the man who held him. His anger fled instantly and a look of jovial welcome succeeded it.

The newcomer was tall above his fellows, of a spare, powerful build, with not an ounce of superfluous flesh to cover his sinews. His eyes were blue under black lashes, and their habitual look was one of alert watchfulness, as if quickness and courage were the safeguards of life for him. The face was strong and for the most part refined, though weather and hard living and perhaps a thought too much of freedom with the wine-flagon had blurred the fair outline and overlaid it with something of coarseness. It was as if one faring on a hard journey had picked up much of the mud and dust of the highways; yet, so far, it was but surface dirt and easy of removal. His costume was full of incongruities, and, by it, it would have been hard to> say in what station in life he belonged. His cote, of which the sleeves only were visible, was of ordinary linsey-woolsey, while the cote-hardie of rich red cloth had a powdering of gold embroidery strewn over its surface. His legs were clad in braies of leather, such as were worn by the commonest, and his extremely pointed shoes, tied about the ankle with blue bands, though of finest cordua leather, were broken on the sides, and served but ill to keep out the wet. His belt and purse were of better sort, and, although the scabbard of his sword was worn and scarred, the blade shone like a lady’s jewel and gave evidence of extreme and loving care. His head was covered by a cap of cloth, in the left side of which he had jauntily stuck a gray eagle’s feather. Over one shoulder he carried a long chape de pluie, much the worse for wear and weather. His cote-hardie, his shoes, his belt, purse, and sword had been obtained when fortune smiled upon him; the rest of his wardrobe he had come by when the fickle dame, frowning, had refused to see his need. In spite of this, the man triumphed in some sort over his clothing, and wore his mixed costume with an air which almost harmonized its incongruities.

“ Mort de ma vie , ’tis 1’ Anglais, ’tis the good Talbot himself. I give thee hearty welcome, comrade ; thou hast not fared this road for many a day, not since Michaelmas, if memory doth not serve me ill,” exclaimed the soldier, who had grasped the newcomer by both shoulders, and shook him from time to time as he spoke by way of emphasizing his speech. Suddenly he stopped, a cloud dimming the welcoming sunshine of his countenance.

“ Art thou also come to join in this mumming of priests, which is but meant to trick the people to another Crusade ? ” he asked, suspiciously.

“ Nay, Huguet, not I. I journey to Orleannois, where there is soon to be a great tourney, and where men of my sort can pick up good service, or, at worst, a few gold coins at dice if Fortune happen to smile, and i’ faith, if the lady look not with favour upon me soon, beneath my cloak will be but out-of-doors/’ answered the other, stretching his chape de pluie across his arm, the better to display its many rents, which he further brought to notice by thrusting his fingers through.

Huguet grinned appreciatively. He understood this state full well, since it had been his quite half of the time before he took service with the city of Chartres and settled down to domesticity.

“ I’ll be sworn if Fortune frowns upon thee, she is the only jade who does. What hast thou done with the pretty callet who was with thee when last thou didst journey this way? ” he questioned, thumping Noel playfully on the chest.

“ Another took her from me, and I wear mournin g for her still,” rejoined his companion, pulling a long face and pretending to look doleful, at which they both burst out into a guffaw of senseless laughter. “ But what is this that has so roused thine ire about the Crusades, man?” questioned Noel, when their coarse merriment was somewhat abated.

Huguet’s ready frown wrinkled his brow and dulled the smile on his ruddy face. “ Tis of this mumming of priests, with their Black Crosses, which goes forward in the town to-day, and all to what purpose? Because, forsooth, the Pope has decreed another Crusade. As if the land had not bled enough in such cause. ’Tis well-nigh exhausted now, nor will they rest content until they have stripped all, not leaving a man even his belt, a woman her necklace, a noble his ring, or, in fact, aught of value even to a Jew.”

“ Huguet, thou turncoat dog, thou art wearing the other side of thy cloak out since last I saw thee. Then, thou wast all for the Crusades, and I was but a lack-blooded fellow because I would not join thee and go overseas. When thou art off duty here, meet me under good Master Yves’s green bush, and there over a flagon and the dice-cups I’ll gladly repeat to thee thy sounding arguments as to why a man should buckle on harness and away to the Holy Land. Aye, Huguet, I have a rare memory i6 for such wisdom, as thou’lt see this eve,” exclaimed the traveller, clapping his friend’s shoulder with good-natured force.

But, for some reason, this simple proposition seemed to embarrass the big soldier, who, in trying to reject the invitation, stuttered and stammered, looking in every direction except fairly into the eyes of his astonished companion. Finally, with a mighty effort, he blurted out:

“ I fear that cannot be, comrade. My dame hath small liking for Master Yves’s hostel, and holds the belief beside that, when candle-time comes, ’twere better for honest folk to be at home and abed.”

“ Ho, ho, ho ! Ha, ha, ha ! ” roared the other, administering a poke which might have endangered the ribs of a smaller man. “ Sits the wind in that quarter, man? And so the turn of thy coat is not for love of thy bleeding country, but for love of a wench. Ah, Huguet, thou sad dog to so deceive me. So thou hast gotten thy neck into that halter, and henceforth will be led, lamblike, to browse in quiet fields, safe guarded from the danger of pasturage ’neath Master Yves’s green bush. Poor dog, poor devil. No more wine and wenches, no more godale and dice. Every eve to creep dry and sober to thy virtuous couch. Huguet, Huguet, how has it come that thou hast fallen on this evil estate. Twill not be many days before ’tis —

“ * Ride away, ride away.

Jog by thy sire the livelong day; ' ”

and Noel swung his leg suggestively, as one does when he sets a child riding on his foot.

Huguet stood grinning like a great gawking fool, ill liking the banter, yet scarce knowing how to turn it aside. He was not yet so completely tamed that this summing up of his new state and contrasting it with his old had not a few pangs for him, and he even balanced the question of asserting his fast waning authority, and going to meet his comrade, despite his good dame’s disapproval. Fortunately for the peace of the newly made family, another comer at the gate diverted him for a minute with a word or two of greeting, and when he turned again to meet Noel’s laughing look, he had gathered sufficient wit to steer the conversation into other channels, which he did by inquiring if his friend still held service under the Count of Guibert.

“ That I do not,” answered Talbot, with a strong expletive to strengthen his denial. “ ’Tis no service, save for the meanest. He wants not honest routiers, but letchers, dish-lickers, hangers-on, ready for any shameful work. I stand ready to serve my i8 lord, whoever he may be, most faithfully, in fighting out his quarrels, private or public, or even in helping him to enforce right of aubaine on the thieving merchants who would cheat him an they could, but I wear no assassin’s knife, nor will I come to do service as a procurer. I have no stomach for such tasks, and would rather roam the road as I do now, free and hungry, than bind me to such a fellow.”

“ Why not take service here, friend, with the good city of Chartres? They are but now adding to the force of soldiery, for that the merchants of the town protest ’gainst doing guard duty in the lookout tower, saying that it entails upon them too great loss of time from their respective occupations, and ’twere better to pay a few stout fellows whose trade it is to fight. I have some influence with the syndics of the place, and can say a word which will ensure thy engagement. Say that thou wilt have it so; ’twill be a happy day for me, comrade,” cried the big fellow, his eyes alight at thought of this companionship.

But Noel unhesitatingly negatived his proposition. “ Nay, man, ’tis too colourless a life for me, for these worthy burgers have no mind for fighting unless upon the defensive, and I have not yet grown so old that I am ready to seek my hole, and never war save when put to it by a bolder blade. Besides the which, Huguet, I have thy sorrowful plight ever before me, and unless I am minded to do as thou hast done, it were well to outrun temptation by staying so short a time at a place that ’twould take a most fleet wench to slip the noose over my head. I am not minded yet to be caught ; some day — nay, I will not say even so much, for never yet have I seen woman for whom I would resign my freedom or bind me to a dull fireside.”

Some time longer the conversation at the gate lasted, interrupted now and again by a straggler from the road, a villain in holiday garb accompanied by his sturdy dame, eager to see the religious procession and have her small fairing afterward, a merry man with a tame bear in leading, intent upon by and by coaxing a few coins from the worthy bourgeoisie by clever tricks and no less clever quips, a travelling merchant of the poorer sort, bearing his pack on his back, others, higher in the scale, leading a patient donkey, who bore his full panniers with long-accustomed ease, and took the necessary prodding of his flanks as if it were all set down in the day’s business.

When Noel at last parted from his companion and made his way into the town, the procession had already begun, and he heard faintly at a distance the chanting of the priests. Clearer and clearer it came, and more distinct, as his hurrying feet gained rapidly on the slow moving crowd. At length a turn in the way brought it in sight, and down the narrow street he saw, borne aloft in the hands of the crucifer, a large wooden crucifix draped with a black cloth, which the wind caught and sent rippling backward, revealing the stark figure beneath like the drawn sheet over the waiting dead. Following this walked priests and monks in habits of black, with feet bare and bowed heads uncovered, while the unison of male voices, sweet and harsh, deep and high, carried the burden of the sorrowful supplication, “ Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison, Christe audi nos, Christe exaudi nos .”

Noel heard the solemn words, borne from him though they were by the sullen spring breeze, and stopped with intent eyes fastened on the advancing procession.

“ Deus miserere nobis, Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis, Sancta Dei Genetrix, ora pro nobis, Sancta Virgo Virginum, ora pro nobis, Sancte Michael, ora pro nobis,” on and on, through the list of saints and angels, the priest’s voice calling, the people answering with their iterant cry, “ Ora pro nobis, ora pro nobis,” which swelled and diminished, dying on the air like a note from the deep pipe of an organ under the fingers of a loving player.