Zigzag Journeys in Europe Part 30

"'It is a sign from G.o.d,' said he, smitten in conscience.

"When the battle was over his body was nowhere to be found.

"They searched for it in the snow-covered fields. At last a Roman page said he had seen the duke fall. He led the people towards a frozen pond, where were some bodies lying, stripped. A washerwoman who had joined in the search, saw the glitter of a jewel on the hand of a corpse whose face was not visible. The head was frozen in the ice. The position of the body was changed. It was Charles the Rash. He was finally buried in the church of Notre Dame, whose spire you may already see shining in the sun."

The story of Charles the Rash led the Cla.s.s to visit the old church of Notre Dame soon after their arrival in the courtly old city. It had a greater charm for the boys than the ornate town-hall with its famous belfry and its many bells. In a side chapel was the tomb of the rash duke and that of his daughter, Mary of Burgundy.

"I can only think of the snowy field, and the naked body frozen in the ice," said Ernest Wynn, as he left the solemn chapel.

The belfry of Bruges, of which so much has been said and sung, is really only about three hundred feet high, but affords a grand view of the surrounding country. Its chimes play by machinery four times an hour, and are regarded the finest in Europe.

We must let Longfellow tell the charming story of his visit to the old tower:--

In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry old and brown; Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded, still it watches o'er the town.

As the summer morn was breaking, on that lofty tower I stood, And the world threw off the darkness, like the weeds of widowhood.

Thick with towns and hamlets studded, and with streams and vapors gray, Like a shield embossed with silver, round and vast the landscape lay.

At my feet the city slumbered. From its chimneys, here and there, Wreaths of snow-white smoke, ascending, vanished, ghost-like, into air.

Not a sound rose from the city at that early morning hour, But I heard a heart of iron beating in the ancient tower.

From their nests beneath the rafters sang the swallows wild and high; And the world, beneath me sleeping, seemed more distant than the sky.

Then most musical and solemn, bringing back the olden times, With their strange, unearthly changes rang the melancholy chimes,

Like the psalms from some old cloister, when the nuns sing in the choir; And the great bell tolled among them, like the chanting of a friar.

Visions of the days departed, shadowy phantoms filled my brain; They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again;

All the Foresters of Flanders,--mighty Baldwin Bras de Fer, Lyderick du Bucq and Cressy Philip, Guy de Dampierre.

I beheld the pageants splendid that adorned those days of old; Stately dames, like queens attended, knights who bore the Fleece of Gold.

Lombard and Venetian merchants with deep-laden argosies; Ministers from twenty nations; more than royal pomp and ease.

I beheld proud Maximilian, kneeling humbly on the ground; I beheld the gentle Mary, hunting with her hawk and hound;

And her lighted bridal-chamber, where a duke slept with the queen, And the armed guard around them, and the sword unsheathed between.

I beheld the Flemish weavers, with Namur and Juliers bold, Marching homeward from the b.l.o.o.d.y battle of the Spurs of Gold;

Saw the fight at Minnewater, saw the White Hoods moving west, Saw great Artevelde victorious scale the Golden Dragon's nest.

And again a whiskered Spaniard all the land with terror smote; And again the wild alarum from the tocsin's throat,--

Till the bell of Ghent responded o'er lagoon and dike of sand, "I am Roland! I am Roland! there is victory in the land!"

Then the sound of drums aroused me. The awakened city's roar Chased the phantoms I had summoned back into their graves once more.

Hours had pa.s.sed away like minutes; and, before I was aware, Lo! the shadow of the belfry crossed the sun-illumined square.

On entering Normandy, Master Lewis engaged pa.s.sages on diligences, wherever a promise of a route amid pleasant scenery offered itself. It seemed to be the boys' greatest delight to ride on the top of a diligence.

These French stage-coaches are lofty, lumbering vehicles, composed of three parts. The front division is called _coupe_, and is shaped somewhat like an old-time chariot. It holds three persons. Next is the _interieur_ or inside, holding six persons, an apartment much shunned in pleasant weather in summer time. Behind is the _rotonde_ which collects "dust, dirt, and bad company." Over all is the _banquette_, a castle-like position on the top of the coupe, a seat protected by a hood, or head, and leather ap.r.o.n.

To secure this seat beside the "driver" was Tommy Toby's highest ambition, when about to leave a newly visited place.

In one of these rides, when Tommy and Wyllys Wynn occupied this high seat, Tommy said to the driver,--

"It seems strange to me to find such great forests in old countries like England, Belgium, and France. I fancied that great tracts of wood only existed in new lands like America, or half-civilized places. Are there wild animals in the woods here?"

The driver was a French soldier, quite advanced in life. He spoke English well, and seemed to enjoy giving the largest possible information to his seat companions.

"Yes, there are some wild animals left in the forest," he said,--"of the harmless kind. _Wild people_ have sometimes been found in the largest tracts of forest."

"Wild people?" asked Tommy, his curiosity greatly excited. "Did you ever see a wild man?"

"No, not myself. Did you ever hear of Peter the Wild Boy found in the woods in Hanover?"

"Yes," said Tommy.

"There was a wild girl found in the French woods, not far from Paris, about the same time."

"Will you not tell us the story?" asked Tommy.

The diligence lumbered along among the cool forest scenery, between the walls of green trees which now and then, like suddenly opened windows, afforded extended views; and the good-natured, well-informed driver told the two boys the story of

THE WILD GIRL OF SONGI.

"In the year 1731, as a n.o.bleman was hunting at Songi, near the ancient and historic town of Chalons, on the river Champagne, in France, he discovered a couple of objects at a distance in the water, at which he fired, supposing them to be birds.

"They immediately disappeared, but arose at a point near the sh.o.r.e, when they were found to be two children, evidently about a dozen years of age.

"They carried to the sh.o.r.e some fish that they had caught, which they tore in pieces with their teeth and devoured raw, without chewing.

"After their meal, one of them found a rosary, probably lost by some devotee, with which she seemed highly delighted. She endeavored to conceal it from her companion, but the latter made the discovery, and, filled with rage and jealousy, inflicted a severe blow on the hand containing the treasure. The other returned the blow, striking her companion on the head with a heavy missile, and bringing her to the ground with a cry of pain.

"The sisters, for such they probably were, parted. The one most injured went towards the river and was never seen or heard of afterwards. The other hurried off towards the hamlet of Songi.

"She was a strange and frightful-looking creature. Her color was black, and her only clothing consisted of loose rags and the skins of animals. The people of Songi fled to their houses and barred their doors at the sight of her.

"She wandered about the place, greatly to the terror of the villagers, but at last some adventurers determined to set a dog on her. She awaited the attack coolly, but as soon as the monster came fairly within her reach, she dealt him such a blow on the head as laid him lifeless on the spot.

"The astonished peasants kept at a safe retreating distance, not wishing a personal encounter with such a creature. She endeavored to gain admittance to some of the houses, but the quaking occupants, who seem to have fancied that the evil one himself had made his appearance, securely fastened their doors and windows.