CHAPTER LVII
ABOUT two months before this scene in Eli's home, the natives of alittle maritime place between Naples and Rome might be seen flocking tothe sea beach, with eyes cast seaward at a ship, that laboured against astiff gale blowing dead on the shore.
At times she seemed likely to weather the danger, and then thespectators congratulated her aloud: at others the wind and sea drove hervisibly nearer, and the lookers-on were not without a secretsatisfaction they would not have owned even to themselves.
Non quia vexari quemquam est jucunda voluptas Sed quibus ipse malis careas quia cernere suave est.
And the poor ship, though not scientifically built for sailing, wasadmirably constructed for going ashore, with her extravagant poop thatcaught the wind, and her lines like a cocked hat reversed. To those onthe beach that battered labouring frame of wood seemed alive, andstruggling against death with a panting heart. But could they have beentransferred to her deck they would have seen she had not one beatingheart but many, and not one nature but a score were coming out clear inthat fearful hour.
The mariners stumbled wildly about the deck, handling the ropes as eachthought fit, and cursing and praying alternately.
The passengers were huddled together round the mast, some sitting, somekneeling, some lying prostrate, and grasping the bulwarks as the vesselrolled and pitched in the mighty waves. One comely young man, whose ashycheek, but compressed lips, showed how hard terror was battling in himwith self-respect, stood a little apart, holding tight by a shroud, andwincing at each sea. It was the ill-fated Gerard. Meantime prayers andvows rose from the trembling throng amidships, and, to hear them, itseemed there were almost as many gods about as men and women. Thesailors, indeed, relied on a single goddess. They varied her titlesonly, calling on her as "Queen of Heaven," "Star of the Sea," "Mistressof the World," "Haven of Safety." But among the landsmen Polytheismraged. Even those who by some strange chance hit on the same divinitydid not hit on the same edition of that divinity. An English merchantvowed a heap of gold to our lady of Walsingham. But a Genoese merchantvowed a silver collar of four pounds to our lady of Loretto; and aTuscan noble promised ten pounds of wax lights to our lady of Ravenna;and with a similar rage for diversity they pledged themselves, not onthe true Cross, but on the true Cross in this, that, or the other,modern city.
Suddenly a more powerful gust than usual catching the sail at adisadvantage, the rotten shrouds gave way, and the sail was torn outwith a loud crack and went down the wind smaller and smaller, blackerand blacker, and fluttered into the sea, half a mile off, like a sheetof paper; and, ere the helmsman could put the ship's head before thewind, a wave caught her on the quarter and drenched the poor wretches tothe bone, and gave them a foretaste of chill death. Then one vowed aloudto turn Carthusian monk, if St. Thomas would save him. Another would goa pilgrim to Compostella, bareheaded, barefooted, with nothing but acoat of mail on his naked skin, if St. James would save him. Othersinvoked Thomas, Dominic, Denys, and, above all, Catherine of Sienna.
Two petty Neapolitan traders stood shivering.
One shouted at the top of his voice, "I vow to St. Christopher at Parisa waxen image of his own weight, if I win safe to land."
On this the other nudged him, and said, "Brother, brother, take heedwhat you vow. Why, if you sell all you have in the world by publicauction, 'twill not buy his weight in wax."
"Hold your tongue, you fool," said the vociferator. Then in a whisper,
"Think ye I am in earnest? Let me but win safe to land, I'll not givehim a rush dip."
Others lay flat and prayed to the sea. "O most merciful sea! O sea mostgenerous! O bountiful sea! O beautiful sea! be gentle, be kind, preserveus in this hour of peril."
And others wailed and moaned in mere animal terror each time theill-fated ship rolled or pitched more terribly than usual; and she wasnow a mere plaything in the arms of the tremendous waves.
A Roman woman of the humbler class sat with her child at her half-baredbreast, silent amid that wailing throng: her cheek ashy pale; her eyecalm; and her lips moved at times in silent prayer, but she neitherwept, nor lamented, nor bargained with the gods. Whenever the shipseemed really gone under their feet, and bearded men squeaked, shekissed her child; but that was all. And so she sat patient, and suckledhim in death's jaws; for why should he lose any joy she could give him;moribundo? Ay, there I do believe, sat Antiquity among those mediaevals.Sixteen hundred years had not tainted the old Roman blood in her veins;and the instinct of a race she had perhaps scarce heard of taught her todie with decent dignity.
A gigantic friar stood on the poop with feet apart, like the Colossus ofRhodes, not so much defying, as ignoring, the peril that surrounded him.He recited verses from the canticles with a loud, unwavering voice; andinvited the passengers to confess to him. Some did so on their knees,and he heard them, and laid his hands on them, and absolved them as ifhe had been in a snug sacristy, instead of a perishing ship. Gerard gotnearer and nearer to him, by the instinct that takes the wavering to theside of the impregnable. And, in truth, the courage of heroes facingfleshly odds might have paled by the side of that gigantic friar, andhis still more gigantic composure. Thus, even here, two were found whomaintained the dignity of our race: a woman, tender, yet heroic, and amonk steeled by religion against mortal fears.
And now, the sail being gone, the sailors cut down the useless mast afoot above the board, and it fell with its remaining hamper over theship's side. This seemed to relieve her a little.
But now the hull, no longer impelled by canvas, could not keep ahead ofthe sea. It struck her again and again on the poop, and the tremendousblows seemed given by a rocky mountain, not by a liquid.
The captain left the helm and came amidships pale as death. "Lightenher," he cried. "Fling all overboard, or we shall founder ere we strike,and lose the one little chance we have of life." While the sailors wereexecuting this order, the captain, pale himself, and surrounded by palefaces that demanded to know their fate, was talking as unlike an Englishskipper in like peril as can well be imagined. "Friends," said he, "lastnight, when all was fair, too fair, alas! there came a globe of fireclose to the ship. When a pair of them come it is good luck, and noughtcan drown her that voyage. We mariners call these fiery globes Castorand Pollux. But if Castor come without Pollux, or Pollux withoutCastor, she is doomed. Therefore, like good Christians, prepare to die."
These words were received with a loud wail.
To a trembling inquiry how long they had to prepare, the captainreplied, "She may, or may not, last half an hour; over that, impossible;she leaks like a sieve; bustle, men, lighten her."
The poor passengers seized on everything that was on deck and flung itoverboard. Presently they laid hold of a heavy sack; an old man waslying on it, sea sick. They lugged it from under him. It rattled. Two ofthem drew it to the side; up started the owner, and, with an unearthlyshriek, pounced on it. "Holy Moses! what would you do? 'Tis my all; 'tisthe whole fruits of my journey; silver candlesticks, silver plates,brooches, hanaps--"
"Let go, thou hoary villain," cried the others, "shall all our lives belost for thy ill-gotten gear?" "Fling him in with it," cried one; "'tisthis Ebrew we Christian men are drowned for." Numbers soon wrenched itfrom him and heaved it over the side. It splashed into the waves. Thenits owner uttered one cry of anguish, and stood glaring, his white hairstreaming in the wind, and was going to leap after it, and would, had itfloated. But it sank, and was gone for ever; and he staggered to andfro, tearing his hair, and cursed them and the ship, and the sea, andall the powers of heaven and hell alike.
And now the captain cried out: "See, there is a church in sight. Steerfor that church, mate, and you, friends, pray to the saint, who'er hebe."
So they steered for the church and prayed to the unknown god it wasnamed after. A tremendous sea pooped them, broke the rudder, and jammedit immovable, and flooded the deck.
Then wild with superstitious terror some of them came round Gerard."Here i
s the cause of all," they cried. "He has never invoked a singlesaint. He is a heathen; here is a pagan aboard."
"Alas, good friends, say not so," said Gerard, his teeth chattering withcold and fear. "Rather call these heathens, that lie a praying to thesea. Friends, I do honour the saints,--but I dare not pray to themnow,--there is no time--(oh!) what avail me Dominic, and Thomas andCatherine? Nearer God's throne than these St. Peter sitteth; and, if Ipray to him, it's odd, but I shall be drowned ere he has time to pleadmy cause with God. Oh! oh! oh! I must need go straight to him that madethe sea, and the saints, and me. Our father, which art in heaven, savethese poor souls and me that cry for the bare life! Oh sweet Jesus,pitiful Jesus, that didst walk Genezaret when Peter sank, and wept forLazarus dead when the apostles' eyes were dry, oh save poor Gerard--fordear Margaret's sake!"
At this moment the sailors were seen preparing to desert the sinkingship in the little boat, which even at that epoch every ship carried;then there was a rush of egotists; and thirty souls crowded into it.Remained behind three who were bewildered, and two who were paralyzed,with terror. The paralyzed sat like heaps of wet rags, the bewilderedones ran to and fro, and saw the thirty egotists put off, but made noattempt to join them: only kept running to and fro, and wringing theirhands. Besides these there was one on his knees praying over the woodenstatue of the Virgin Mary, as large as life, which the sailors hadreverently detached from the mast. It washed about the deck, as thewater came slushing in from the sea, and pouring out at the scuppers;and this poor soul kept following it on his knees, with his handsclasped at it, and the water playing with it, And there was the Jew,palsied, but not by fear. He was no longer capable of so petty apassion. He sat cross-legged, bemoaning his bag, and, whenever the spraylashed him, shook his fist at where it came from, and cursed theNazarenes, and their gods, and their devils, and their ships, and theirwaters, to all eternity.
And the gigantic Dominican, having shriven the whole ship, stood calmlycommuning with his own spirit. And the Roman woman sat pale and patient,only drawing her child closer to her bosom as death came nearer.
Gerard saw this and it awakened his manhood. "See! see!" he said, "theyhave ta'en the boat and left the poor woman and her child to perish."
His heart soon set his wit working.
"Wife, I'll save thee yet, please God." And he ran to find a cask or aplank to float her. There was none.
Then his eye fell on the wooden image of the Virgin. He caught it up inhis arms, and, heedless of a wail that issued from its worshipper, likea child robbed of its toy, ran aft with it. "Come, wife," he cried."I'll lash thee and the child to this. 'Tis sore worm eaten; but 'twillserve."
She turned her great dark eye on him and said a single word:
"Thyself?"
But with wonderful magnanimity and tenderness.
"I am a man, and have no child to take care of."
"Ah!" said she, and his words seemed to animate her face with a desireto live. He lashed the image to her side. Then with the hope of life shelost something of her heroic calm; not much: her body trembled a little,but not her eye.
The ship was now so low in the water that by using an oar as a lever hecould slide her into the waves.
"Come," said he, "while yet there is time."
She turned her great Roman eyes, wet now, upon him. "Poor youth!--Godforgive me!--My child!" And he launched her on the surge, and with hisoar kept her from being battered against the ship.
A heavy hand fell on him; a deep sonorous voice sounded in his ear:"'Tis well. Now come with me."
It was the gigantic friar.
Gerard turned, and the friar took two strides, and laid hold of thebroken mast. Gerard did the same, obeying him instinctively. Betweenthem, after a prodigious effort, they hoisted up the remainder of themast, and carried it off. "Fling it in," said the friar, "and followit." They flung it in; but one of the bewildered passengers had runafter them, and jumped first and got on one end. Gerard seized theother, the friar the middle.
It was a terrible situation. The mast rose and plunged with each wavelike a kicking horse, and the spray flogged their faces mercilessly, andblinded them; to help knock them off.
Presently was heard a long grating noise ahead. The ship had struck: andsoon after, she being stationary now, they were hurled against her withtremendous force. Their companion's head struck against the upper partof the broken rudder with a horrible crack, and was smashed like acocoa-nut by a sledge-hammer. He sunk directly, leaving no trace but ared stain on the water, and a white clot on the jagged rudder, and adeath cry ringing in their ears, as they drifted clear under the lee ofthe black hull. The friar uttered a short Latin prayer for the safety ofhis soul, and took his place composedly. They rolled along [Greek:hyp' ek thanatoio]; one moment they saw nothing, and seemed down in amere basin of watery hills: the next they caught glimpses of the shorespeckled bright with people, who kept throwing up their arms with wildItalian gestures to encourage them, and the black boat driving bottomupwards, and between it and them the woman rising and falling likethemselves. She had come across a paddle, and was holding her childtight with her left arm, and paddling gallantly with her right.
THE BLACK BOAT DRIVING BOTTOM UPWARD]
When they had tumbled along thus a long time, suddenly the friar saidquietly: "I touched the ground."
"Impossible, father," said Gerard, "we are more than a hundred yardsfrom shore. Prithee, prithee, leave not our faithful mast."
"My son," said the friar, "you speak prudently. But know that I havebusiness of holy Church on hand, and may not waste time floating when Ican walk, in her service. There, I felt it with my toes again; see thebenefit of wearing sandals, and not shoon. Again: and sandy. Thy statureis less than mine: keep to the mast! I walk." He left the mastaccordingly, and extending his powerful arms, rushed through the water.Gerard soon followed him. At each overpowering wave the monk stood likea tower, and, closing his mouth, threw his head back to encounter it,and was entirely lost under it awhile: then emerged and ploughed lustilyon. At last they came close to the shore; but the suction outwardbaffled all their attempts to land. Then the natives sent stoutfishermen into the sea, holding by long spears in a triple chain: and sodragged them ashore.
The friar shook himself, bestowed a short paternal benediction on thenatives, and went on to Rome, with eyes bent on earth, according to hisrule, and without pausing. He did not even cast a glance back upon thatsea, which had so nearly engulfed him, but had no power to harm him,without his master's leave.
While he stalks on alone to Rome without looking back, I who am not inthe service of holy Church, stop a moment to say that the reader and Iwere within six inches of this giant once before: but we escaped himthat time. Now, I fear, we are in for him. Gerard grasped every handupon the beach. They brought him to an enormous fire and with a delicacyhe would hardly have encountered in the north, left him to dry himselfalone: on this he took out of his bosom a parchment, and a paper, anddried them carefully. When this was done to his mind, and not till then,he consented to put on a fisherman's dress and leave his own by thefire, and went down to the beach. What he saw may be briefly related.
The captain stuck by the ship, not so much from gallantry, as from aconviction that it was idle to resist Castor or Pollux, whichever it wasthat had come for him in a ball of fire.
Nevertheless the sea broke up the ship and swept the poop, captain andall, clear of the rest, and took him safe ashore. Gerard had a principalhand in pulling him out of the water. The disconsolate Hebrew landed onanother fragment, and on touching earth offered a reward for his bag,which excited little sympathy, but some amusement. Two more were savedon pieces of the wreck. The thirty egotists came ashore, but one at atime, and dead; one breathed still. Him the natives, with excellentintentions, took to a hot fire. So then he too retired from thisshifting scene.
As Gerard stood by the sea, watching, with horror and curiosity mixed,his late companions washed ashore, a hand was laid lightly on hisshoulder.
He turned. It was the Roman matron, burning with womanlygratitude. She took his hand gently, and raising it slowly to her lips,kissed it; but so nobly, she seemed to be conferring an honour on onedeserving hand. Then, with face all beaming and moist eyes, she held herchild up and made him kiss his preserver.
Gerard kissed the child: more than once. He was fond of children. But hesaid nothing. He was much moved; for she did not speak at all, exceptwith her eyes, and glowing cheeks, and noble antique gesture, so largeand stately. Perhaps she was right. Gratitude is not a thing of words.It was an ancient Roman matron thanking a modern from her heart ofhearts.
Next day, towards afternoon, Gerard--twice as old as last year, thriceas learned in human ways, a boy no more, but a man who had shed blood inself-defense, and grazed the grave by land and sea--reached the eternalcity; _post tot naufragia tutus_.
The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages Page 59
