The Gold Sickle; Or, Hena, The Virgin of The Isle of Sen. A Tale of Druid Gaul

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE FOREST OF KARNAK.

  The call for assembling that was issued to the tribes at noon, had runfrom mouth to mouth, from village to village, from town to town. It washeard all over Breton Gaul. Towards evening the tribes proceeded enmasse--men, women and children--to the forest of Karnak, the same asJoel and his family.

  The moon, at her fullest on that night, shone radiant amid the stars inthe firmament. After having marched through the dark and the lightedspots of the forest, the assembling multitude finally arrived at theshores of the sea. The sacred stones of Karnak rose there in nine longavenues. They are sacred stones! They are the gigantic pillars of atemple that has the sky for its vault.

  In the measure that the tribes drew nearer to the place, their solemnitydeepened.

  At the extremity of the avenue, the three stones of the sacrificialaltar were ranged in a semi-circle, close to the shore. Behind the massof people rose the deep and brooding forest, before them extended theboundless sea, above them spread the starry firmament.

  The tribes did not step beyond the last avenue of Karnak. They left awide space between themselves and the altar. The large crowd remainedsilent.

  At the feet of the sacrificial stones rose three pyres.

  The center one, the largest of the three, was ornamented with long whiteveils striped with purple; it was also ornamented with ash, oak andbirch-tree branches, arranged in mystical order.

  The pyre to the right was somewhat less high, but was also ornamentedwith green branches besides sheafs of wheat. On it lay the body ofArmel, who had been killed in loyal combat. It was almost hidden undergreen and fruit-bearing boughs.

  The left pyre was surmounted with a hollow bunch of twisted osiersbearing the resemblance of a human body of gigantic stature.

  The sound of cymbals and harps was presently heard from the distance.

  The male and female druids, together with the virgins of the Isle of Senwere approaching the sacrificial place.

  At the head of the procession marched the bards, dressed in long whitetunics that were held around their waists by brass belts; their templeswere wreathed in oak leaves; they sang while playing upon their harps:"God, Gaul and her heroes."

  They were followed by the ewaghs charged with the sacrifices, andcarrying torches and axes; they led in their midst and in chainsDaoulas, the murderer who was to be executed.

  Behind these marched the druids themselves, clad in their purple-stripedwhite robes, and their temples also wreathed in oak leaves. In theirmidst was Julyan, happy and proud; Julyan who was glad to leave thisworld in order to rejoin his friend Armel, and journey in his companyover the unknown worlds.

  Finally came the married female druids, clad in white tunics with goldbelts, and the nine virgins of the Isle of Sen, clad in their blacktunics, their belts of brass, their arms bare, their green chaplets andtheir gold harps. Hena walked at the head of the latter. Her eyes lookedfor her father, her mother and her relatives--Joel, Margarid and theirfamily had been placed in the front rank of the crowd--they soonrecognized their daughter; their hearts went out to her.

  The druids ranked themselves beside the sacrificial stones. The bardsceased chanting. One of the ewaghs than said to the crowd, that all whowished to be remembered to people whom they had loved and who were nolonger here, could deposit their letters and offering on the pyres.

  A large number of relatives and friends of those who had long beentraveling yonder, thereupon piously approached the pyres, and depositedletters, flowers and other souvenirs that were to re-appear in the otherworlds, the same as the souls of the bodies that were about to dissolvein brilliant flames, were to re-appear in a new body.

  Nobody, however, not one single person, deposited aught on the pyre ofthe murderer. As proud and joyful as Julyan was, Daoulas was crestfallenand frightened. Julyan had everything to hope for from the continuanceof a life that had been uniformly pure and just. The murderer hadeverything to fear from the continuance of a life that was stained withcrime. After all the offerings for the departed ones were deposited onthe pyres, a profound silence followed.

  The ewaghs led Daoulas in chains to the osier effigy. Despite thepitiful cries of the condemned man, he was pinioned and placed at thefoot of the pyre, and the ewaghs remained near him, axes in hand.

  Talyessin, the oldest of all the druids, an old man with long whitebeard, made a sign to one of the bards, who thereupon struck histhree-stringed harp and intonated the following chant, after pointing tothe murderer:

  "This man is of the tribe of Morlech. He killed Houarne of the sametribe. Did he kill him, like a brave man face to face with equalweapons? No, Daoulas killed Houarne like a coward. At the noon hour,Houarne was asleep under a tree. Daoulas approached him on tiptoe, axein hand and killed his victim with one blow. Little Erick of the sametribe, who happened to be in a near-by tree picking fruit, saw themurder and him who committed it. On the evening of the same day theewaghs seized Daoulas in his tribe. Brought before the druids of Karnakand confronted by Erick, he confessed his crime. Whereupon the oldest ofthe druids said:

  "'In the name of Hesus, _He who is because he is_, in the name ofTeutates, who presides over journeys in this world and in the others,hear: The expiatory blood of the murderer is agreeable to Hesus.... Youare about to be born again in other worlds. Your new life will beterrible, because you were cruel and cowardly.... You will die to bere-born in still greater wretchedness forever and ever through alleternity.... Become, on the contrary, from the moment that you arere-born, brave and good, despite the sufferings that you will endure andyou will then die happy, to be re-born yonder, thus forever and ever,through all eternity!!!'"

  The bard then addressed himself to the murderer, who emitted fearfulcries of terror.

  Thus spoke the venerable druid: "Daoulas, you are about to die ... andto meet your victim.... _He is waiting for you, he is waiting for you!_"

  When the bard pronounced these words, a shudder went through theassembled crowd. The fearful thought of meeting in the next world alivehim who was killed in this made them all tremble.

  The bard proceeded, turning towards the pyre:

  "Daoulas, you are about to die! It is a glorious thing to see the faceof a brave and just person at the moment when he or she voluntarilyquits this world for some sacred cause. They love, at the moment oftheir departure to see the tender looks of farewell of their parents andfriends. Cowards like yourself, Daoulas, are unworthy of taking a lastlook at the just. Hence, Daoulas, you will die and burn hidden in thatenvelop of osier, the effigy of a man, as you have become since thecommission of the murder."

  And the bard cried:

  "In the name of Hesus! In the name of Teutates! Glory, glory to thebrave! Shame, shame on the coward!"

  All the bards struck upon their harps and their cymbals, and cried inchorus:

  "Glory, glory to the brave! Shame, shame on the coward!"

  An ewagh then took up a sacred knife, cut off the murderer's life andcast his body inside of the huge osier effigy of a man. The pyre was seton fire. The harps and cymbals struck up in chorus, and all the tribesrepeated aloud the last words of the bard:

  "Shame on the coward!"

  Soon the murderer's pyre was a raging mass of flame, within which wasseen for a moment the effigy of a man like a giant on fire. The flameslighted the tops of the oaks of the forest, the colossal stones ofKarnak, and even the vast expanse of the sea, while the moon inundatedthe space with its divine light. A few minutes later there was nothingleft but a heap of ashes where the pyre of Daoulas had stood.

  Julyan was then seen ascending with radiant mien the pyre where lay thebody of Armel, his friend--his pledged brother. Julyan had on hisholiday clothes: a blouse of fine material striped white and blue, heldaround his waist by an embroidered leather belt, from which hung hisknife. His caped cloak of brown wool was held by a brooch over his leftshoulder. An oak crown decked his manly head. He held in his hand anosegay of vervain. He looked serene a
nd bold. Hardly had he ascendedthe pyre, when again the harps and cymbals struck up, and the bardchanted:

  "Who is this? He is a brave man! It is Julyan the laborer; Julyan of thefamily of Joel, the brenn of the tribe of Karnak! He fears the gods, andall love him. He is good, he is industrious, he is brave. He killedArmel not in hate but in a contest, in loyal combat, buckler on arm,sword in hand, like a true Breton Gaul, who loves to display his braveryand does not fear death. Armel having departed, Julyan, who had pledgedbrotherhood to him, wishes to depart also and join his friend. Glory toJulyan, faithful to the teachings of the druids. He knows that thecreatures of the All-Powerful never die, and his pure and noble bloodJulyan now offers up to Hesus. Glory, hope and happiness to Julyan! Hehas been good, just and brave. He will be re-born still happier, stilljuster, still braver, and ever onward, from world to world, Julyan willbe re-born, his soul being ever re-incarnated in a new body the same asthe body that here puts on new clothes."

  "Oh, Gauls! Ye proud souls, to whom death does not exist! Come, come!Remove your eyes from this earth; rise to the sublimity of heaven. See,see at your feet the abyss of space, dotted by these myriads of mortalsas are all of us, and whom Teutates guides incessantly from the worldthat they have lived in towards the world that they are next to inhabit.Oh, what unknown worlds and marvelous we shall journey through, with ourfriends and our relatives that have preceded us, and with those whom weshall precede!"

  "No, we are not mortals! Our infinite lives are numbered by myriads andmyriads of centuries, just as are numbered by myriads of myriads thestars in the firmament--mysterious worlds, ever different, ever new,that we are successively to inhabit."

  "Let those fear death who, faithful to the false gods of the Greeks, theRomans and the Jews, believe that man lives only once, and that afterthat, stripped of his body, the happy or unhappy soul remains eternallyin the same hell or the same paradise! Aye! They are bound to fear deathwho believe that when man quits this life he finds _immobility ineternity_."

  "We Gauls have the right knowledge of God. We hold the secret of death._Man is immortal both in body and soul._ Our destiny from world to worldis to see and learn, to the end that at each of these journeys, if wehave led wicked and impure lives, we may purify ourselves and becomebetter--still better if we have been just and good; and that thus, fromnew birth to new birth man rises incessantly towards perfection asendless as his life!"

  "Happy, therefore, are the brave who voluntarily leave this world forother regions where they will ever see new and marvelous sights in thecompany of those whom they have loved! Happy, therefore, happy the braveJulyan! He is about to meet again with his friend, and with him see andknow _what none of us has yet seen or known, and what all of us shallsee and know_! Happy Julyan! Glory, glory to Julyan!"

  And all the bards and all the druids, the female druids and the virginsof the Isle of Sen repeated in chorus to the sound of the harps and thecymbals:

  "Happy, Happy Julyan! Glory to Julyan!"

  And all the tribes, feeling the thrill of curiosity of death and certainthat they all would eventually become acquainted with the marvels of theother worlds, repeated with their thousands of voices:

  "Happy Julyan! Happy Julyan!"

  Standing erect upon his pyre, his face radiant, and at his feet the bodyof Armel, Julyan raised his inspired eyes towards the brilliant moon,opened his blouse, drew his long knife, held up the nosegay of vervainto heaven with his left hand, and with his right firmly plunged hisknife into his breast, uttering as he did so in a strong voice:

  "Happy--happy am I. I am to join Armel!"

  The pyre was immediately lighted. Julyan, raised for a last, time hisnosegay of vervain to heaven, and then vanished in the midst of theblinding flames, while the chants of the bards and the clang of harp andcymbals resounded far and wide.

  In their impatience to see and know the mysteries of the other world, alarge number of men and women of the tribes rushed towards Julyan's pyrefor the purpose of departing with him and of offering to Hesus animmense hecatomb with their bodies. But Talyessin, the eldest of thedruids, ordered the ewaghs to restrain and hold these faithful peopleback. He cried out to them:

  "Enough blood has flown without that which is still to flow. But thehour has come when the blood of Gaul should flow only for freedom. Theblood that is shed for liberty is also an agreeable offering to theAll-Powerful."

  It was not without great effort that the ewaghs prevented the threatenedrush of voluntary human sacrifices. The pyre of Julyan and Armel burneduntil the flames had nothing more to feed upon.

  Again profound silence fell upon the crowd. Hena, the virgin of the Isleof Sen, had ascended the third pyre.

  Joel and Margarid, their three sons, Guilhern, Albinik and Mikael,Guilhern's wife and little children all of whom so dearly loved Hena,all her relatives and all the members of her tribe held one another in aclose embrace, and said to one another:

  "There is Hena.... There is our Hena!"

  As the virgin of the Isle of Sen stood upon the pyre that was ornamentedwith white veils, greens and flowers, the crowds of the tribes cried inone voice: "How beautiful she is!... How holy!"

  Joel writes it now down in all sincerity. His daughter Hena was indeedvery beautiful as she stood erect on the pyre, lighted by the mellowlight of the moon and resplendent in her black tunic, her blonde hairand her green chaplet, while her arms, whiter than ivory, embraced hergold harp!

  The bards ordered silence.

  The virgin of the Isle of Sen sang in a voice as pure as her own soul:

  "The daughter of Joel and Margarid comes to offer gladly her life as asacrifice to Hesus!

  "Oh, All-Powerful! From the stranger deliver the soil of our father!

  "Gauls of Britanny, you have the lance and the sword!

  "The daughter of Joel and Margarid has but her blood. She offers itvoluntarily to Hesus!

  "Oh, Almighty God! Render invincible the Gallic lance and sword! Oh,Hesus, take my blood, it is yours ... save our sacred fatherland!"

  The eldest of the female druids stood all this while on the pyre behindHena with the sacred knife in her hand. When Hena's chant was ended, theknife glistened in the air and struck the virgin of the Isle of Sen.

  Her mother and her brothers, all the members of her tribe and her fatherJoel saw Hena fall upon her knees, cross her arms, turn her celestialface towards the moon, and cry with a still sonorous voice:

  "Hesus ... Hesus ... by the blood that flows.... Mercy for Gaul!"

  "Gauls, by this blood that flows, victory to our arms!"

  Thus the sacrifice of Hena was consummated amidst the religiousadmiration of the tribes. All repeated the last words of the bravevirgin:

  "Hesus, mercy for Gaul!... Gauls, victory to our arms!"

  Several young men, being fired with enthusiasm by the heroic example andbeauty of Hena sought to kill themselves upon her pyre in order to bere-born with her. The ewaghs held them back. The flames soon envelopedthe pyre and Hena vanished in their dazzling splendor. A few minuteslater there was nothing left of the virgin and her pyre but a heap ofashes. A high wind sat in from the sea and dispersed the atoms. Thevirgin of the Isle of Sen, brilliant and pure as the flame that consumedher, had vanished into space to be re-born and to await beyond for thearrival of those whom she had loved.

  The cymbals and harps resounded anew, and the chief of the bards struckup the chant:

  "To arms, ye Gauls, to arms!

  "The innocent blood of a virgin flowed for your sakes, and shall notyours flow for the fatherland! To arms! The Romans are here. Strike,Gauls, strike at their heads! Strike hard! See the enemy's blood flowlike a stream! It rises up to your knees! Courage! Strike hard! Gauls,strike the Romans! Still harder! Harder still! You see the enemy'sblood extend like a lake! It rises up to your chests! Courage! Strikestill harder, Gauls! Strike the Romans! Strike harder still! You willrest to-morrow.... To-morrow Gaul will be free! Let, to-day, from theLoire to the ocean, but one cry resound-
-'To arms!'"

  As if carried away by the breath of war, all the tribes dispersed,running to their arms. The moon had gone down; dark night set in. Butfrom all parts of the woods, from the bottoms of the valleys, from thetops of the hills where the signal fires were burning, a thousand voicesechoed and re-echoed the chant of the bards:

  "To arms! Strike, Gauls! Strike hard at the Romans! To arms!"

  * * * * *

  The above truthful account of all that happened at our poor home on thebirthday of my glorious Hena, a day that also saw her heroicsacrifice--that account has been written by me, Joel, the brenn of thetribe of Karnak, at the last moon of October of the first year thatJulius Caesar came to invade Gaul. I wrote it upon the rolls of whiteskin that my glorious daughter Hena gave me as a keepsake, and my eldestson, Guilhern has attached to them the keepsake he received fromher--the mystic gold sickle of the virgin druid priestess. Let the twoever remain together.

  After me, my eldest son Guilhern shall carefully preserve both thewriting and the emblem, and after Guilhern, the sons of his sons arecharged to transmit them from generation to generation, to the end thatour family may for all time preserve green the memory of Hena, thevirgin of the Isle of Sen.

  (The End.)

  * * * * *

  THE INFANT'S SKULL; OR THE END OF THE WORLD.

  By EUGENE SUE.

  _Translated from the original French_ By DANIEL DE LEON.

  This is one of that series of thrilling stories by Eugene Sue in whichhistoric personages and events are so artistically grouped that, withoutthe fiction losing by the otherwise solid facts and without the solidfacts suffering by the fiction, both are enhanced and combinedly act asa flash-light upon the past--and no less so upon the future.

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  * * * * *

  THE PILGRIM'S SHELL

  OR

  FERGAN THE QUARRYMAN

  By Eugene Sue.

  Translated by Daniel De Leon.

  283 pp., on fine book paper, cloth 75 cents.

  This great historical story by the eminent French writer is one of themajestic series that cover the leading and successive episodes of thehistory of the human race. The novel treats of the feudal system, thefirst Crusade and the rise of the Communes in France. It is the onlytranslation into English of this masterpiece of Sue.

  The New York Sun says:

  Eugene Sue wrote a romance which seems to have disappeared in a curiousfashion, called "Les Mysteres du Peuple." It is the story of a Gallicfamily through the ages, told in successive episodes, and, so far as wehave been able to read it, is fully as interesting as "The WanderingJew" or "The Mysteries of Paris." The French edition is pretty hard tofind, and only parts have been translated into English. We don't knowthe reason. One medieval episode, telling of the struggle of thecommunes for freedom, is now translated by Mr. Daniel De Leon, under thetitle "The Pilgrim's Shell" (New York Labor News Co.). We trust thesuccess of his effort may be such as to lead him to translate the restof the romance. It will be the first time the feat has been done inEnglish.

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  * * * * *

  Woman Under Socialism

  By August Bebel

  Translated from the Original German of the Thirty-third Edition byDaniel De Leon, Editor of the New York Daily People, with translator'spreface and foot notes.

  Cloth, 400 pages, with pen drawing of the author.

  Price, $1.00

  The complete emancipation of woman, and her complete equality with manis the final goal of our social development, whose realization no poweron earth can prevent;--and this realization is possible only by a socialchange that shall abolish the rule of man over man--hence also ofcapitalists over working-men. Only then will the human race reach itshighest development. The "Golden Age" that man has been dreaming of forthousands of years, and after which they have been longing, will havecome at last. Class rule will have reached its end for all time, andalong with it, the rule of man over woman.

  CONTENTS:

  WOMAN IN THE PAST. Before Christianity. Under Christianity. WOMAN IN THE PRESENT. Sexual Instinct, Wedlock, Checks and Obstructions to Marriage. Further Checks and Obstructions to Marriage, Numerical Proportion of the Sexes, Its Causes and Effects. Prostitution a Necessary Institution of the Capitalist World. Woman's Position as a Breadwinner. Her Intellectual Faculties, Darwinism and the Condition of Society. Woman's Civic and Political Status. The State and Society. The Socialization of Society. WOMAN IN THE FUTURE. INTERNATIONALITY. POPULATION AND OVER-POPULATION.

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  * * * * *

  The Paris Commune

  By Karl Marx, with the elaborate introduction of Frederick Engels. Itincludes the First and Second manifestos of the InternationalWorkingman's Association, the Civil War in France and theAnti-Plebiscite Manifesto. Near his close of the Civil War in France,turning from history to forecast the future, Marx says:

  "After Whit-Sunday, 1871, there can be neither peace nor truce possiblebetween the Workingmen of France and the appropriators of their produce.The iron hand of a mercenary soldiery may keep for a time both classestied down in common oppression. But the battle must break out in evergrowing dimensions, and there can be no doubt as to who will be thevictor in the end--the appropriating few, or the immense workingmajority. And the French working class is only the vanguard of themodern proletariat."

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