by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XVIII.
Upon the Rhine, upon the Rhine they cluster, The grapes of juice divine, Which make the soldier's jovial courage muster; O blessed be the Rhine! _Drinking Song._[9]
A cottage or two on the side of the river, beside which were mooredone or two fishing-boats, showed the pious Hans had successors in hisprofession as a boatman. The river, which at a point a little lowerwas restrained by a chain of islets, expanded more widely, and movedless rapidly, than when it passed these cottages, affording to theferryman a smoother surface, and a less heavy stream to contend with,although the current was even there too strong to be borne up against,unless the river was in a tranquil state.
On the opposite bank, but a good deal lower than the hamlet which gavename to the ferry, was seated on a small eminence, screened by treesand bushes, the little town of Kirch-hoff. A skiff departing from theleft bank was, even on favourable occasions, carried considerably toleeward ere it could attain the opposite side of the deep and fullstream of the Rhine, so that its course was oblique towardsKirch-hoff. On the other hand, a boat departing from Kirch-hoff musthave great advantage both of wind and oars, in order to land itsloading or crew at the Chapel of the Ferry, unless it were under themiraculous influence which carried the image of the Virgin in thatdirection. The communication, therefore, from the east to the westbank was only maintained by towing boats up the stream, to such aheight on the eastern side that the leeway which they made during thevoyage across might correspond with the point at which they desired toarrive, and enable them to attain it with ease. Hence it naturallyhappened that, the passage from Alsace into Suabia being the mosteasy, the ferry was more used by those who were desirous of enteringGermany, than by travellers who came in an opposite direction.
When the elder Philipson had by a glance around him ascertained thesituation of the ferry, he said firmly to his son,--"Begone, my dearArthur, and do what I have commanded thee."
With a heart rent with filial anxiety, the young man obeyed, and tookhis solitary course towards the cottages, near which the barks weremoored, which were occasionally used for fishing, as well as for thepurposes of the ferry.
"Your son leaves us?" said Bartholomew to the elder Philipson.
"He does for the present," said his father, "as he has certaininquiries to make in yonder hamlet."
"If they be," answered the guide, "any matters connected with yourhonour's road, I laud the Saints that I can better answer yourinquiries than those ignorant boors, who hardly understand yourlanguage."
"If we find that their information needs thy commentary," saidPhilipson, "we will request it--meanwhile, lead on to the chapel,where my son will join us."
They moved towards the chapel, but with slow steps, each turning hislooks aside to the fishing-hamlet; the guide as if striving to seewhether the younger traveller was returning towards them, the fatheranxious to descry, on the broad bosom of the Rhine, a sail unloosed,to waft his son across to that which might be considered as the saferside. But though the looks of both guide and traveller were turned inthe direction of the river, their steps carried them towards thechapel, to which the inhabitants, in memory of the founder, had giventhe title of Hans-Kapelle.
A few trees scattered around gave an agreeable and silvan air to theplace; and the chapel, that appeared on a rising ground at somedistance from the hamlet, was constructed in a style of pleasingsimplicity, which corresponded with the whole scene. Its small sizeconfirmed the tradition that it had originally been merely the hut ofa peasant; and the cross of fir-trees, covered with bark, attested thepurpose to which it was now dedicated. The chapel and all around itbreathed peace and solemn tranquillity, and the deep sound of themighty river seemed to impose silence on each human voice which mightpresume to mingle with its awful murmur.
When Philipson arrived in the vicinity, Bartholomew took the advantageafforded by his silence to thunder forth two stanzas to the praise ofthe Lady of the Ferry, and her faithful worshipper Hans, after whichhe broke forth into the rapturous exclamation,--"Come hither, ye whofear wreck, here is your safe haven!--Come hither, ye who die ofthirst, here is a well of mercy open to you!--Come, those who areweary and far-travelled, this is your place of refreshment!"--And moreto the same purpose he might have said, but Philipson sternly imposedsilence on him.
"If thy devotion were altogether true," he said, "it would be lessclamorous; but it is well to do what is good in itself, even if it isa hypocrite who recommends it.--Let us enter this holy chapel, andpray for a fortunate issue to our precarious travels."
The pardoner caught up the last words.
"Sure was I," he said, "that your worship is too well advised to passthis holy place without imploring the protection and influence of OurLady of the Ferry. Tarry but a moment until I find the priest whoserves the altar, that he may say a mass on your behalf."
Here he was interrupted by the door of the chapel suddenly opening,when an ecclesiastic appeared on the threshold. Philipson instantlyknew the Priest of St. Paul's, whom he had seen that morning at LaFerette. Bartholomew also knew him, as it would seem; for hisofficious hypocritical eloquence failed him in an instant, and hestood before the priest with his arms folded on his breast, like a manwho waits for the sentence of condemnation.
"Villain," said the ecclesiastic, regarding the guide with a severecountenance, "dost thou lead a stranger into the houses of the HolySaints, that thou mayst slay him, and possess thyself of his spoils?But Heaven will no longer bear with thy perfidy. Back, thou wretch,to meet thy brother miscreants, who are hastening hitherward. Tellthem thy arts were unavailing, and that the innocent stranger is underMY protection--under my protection, which those who presume to violatewill meet with the reward of Archibald de Hagenbach!"
The guide stood quite motionless, while addressed by the priest in amanner equally menacing and authoritative; and no sooner did thelatter cease speaking, than, without offering a word either injustification or reply, Bartholomew turned round, and retreated at ahasty pace by the same road which had conducted the traveller to thechapel.
"And do you, worthy Englishman," continued the priest, "enter intothis chapel, and perform in safety those devotions, by means of whichyonder hypocrite designed to detain you until his brethren in iniquitycame up.--But first, wherefore are you alone? I trust naught evil hathbefallen your young companion?"
"My son," said Philipson, "crosses the Rhine at yonder ferry, as wehad important business to transact on the other side."
As he spoke thus, a light boat, about which two or three peasants hadbeen for some time busy, was seen to push from the shore, and shootinto the stream, to which it was partly compelled to give way, until asail stretched along the slender yard, and supporting the bark againstthe current, enabled her to stand obliquely across the river.
"Now, praise be to God!" said Philipson, who was aware that the barkhe looked upon must be in the act of carrying his son beyond the reachof the dangers by which he was himself surrounded.
"Amen!" answered the priest, echoing the pious ejaculation of thetraveller. "Great reason have you to return thanks to Heaven."
"Of that I am convinced," replied Philipson; "but yet from you I hopeto learn the special cause of danger from which I have escaped?"
"This is neither time nor place for such an investigation," answeredthe Priest of St. Paul's. "It is enough to say, that yonder fellow,well known for his hypocrisy and his crimes, was present when theyoung Switzer, Sigismund, reclaimed from the executioner the treasureof which you were robbed by Hagenbach. Thus Bartholomew's avarice wasawakened. He undertook to be your guide to Strasburg, with thecriminal intent of detaining you by the way till a party came up,against whose numbers resistance would have been in vain. But hispurpose has been anticipated.--And now, ere giving vent to otherworldly thoughts, whether of hope or fear--to the chapel, sir, andjoin in orisons to Him who hath been your aid, and to those who haveinterceded with him in your behalf."
&nb
sp; Philipson entered the chapel with his guide, and joined in returningthanks to Heaven, and the tutelary power of the spot, for the escapewhich had been vouchsafed to him.
When this duty had been performed, Philipson intimated his purpose ofresuming his journey, to which the Black Priest replied, "That farfrom delaying him in a place so dangerous, he would himself accompanyhim for some part of the journey, since he also was bound to thepresence of the Duke of Burgundy."
"You, my father!--you!" said the merchant, with some astonishment.
"And wherefore surprised?" answered the priest. "Is it so strange thatone of my order should visit a prince's court? Believe me, there arebut too many of them to be found there."
"I do not speak with reference to your order," answered Philipson,"but in regard of the part which you have this day acted, in abettingthe execution of Archibald de Hagenbach. Know you so little of thefiery Duke of Burgundy as to imagine you can dally with his resentmentwith more safety than you would pull the mane of a sleeping lion?"
"I know his mood well," said the priest; "and it is not to excuse butto defend the death of De Hagenbach that I go to his presence. TheDuke may execute his serfs and bondsmen at his pleasure, but there isa spell upon my life which is proof to all his power. But let meretort the question--You, Sir Englishman, knowing the conditions ofthe Duke so well--you, so lately the guest and travelling companion ofthe most unwelcome visitors who could approach him--you, implicated,in appearance at least, in the uproar at La Ferette--what chance isthere of your escaping his vengeance? and wherefore will you throwyourself wantonly within his power?"
"Worthy father," said the merchant, "let each of us, without offenceto the other, keep his own secret. I have, indeed, no spell to secureme from the Duke's resentment--I have limbs to suffer torture andimprisonment, and property which may be seized and confiscated. But Ihave had in former days many dealings with the Duke; I may even say Ihave laid him under obligations, and hope my interest with him may inconsequence be sufficient, not only to save me from the consequencesof this day's procedure, but be of some avail to my friend theLandamman."
"But if you are in reality bound to the court of Burgundy as amerchant," said the priest, "where are the wares in which you traffic?Have you no merchandise save that which you carry on your person? Iheard of a sumpter-horse with baggage. Has yonder villain deprived youof it?"
This was a trying question to Philipson, who, anxious about theseparation from his son, had given no direction whether the baggageshould remain with himself, or should be transported to the other sideof the Rhine. He was, therefore, taken at advantage by the priest'sinquiry, to which he answered with some incoherence,--"I believe mybaggage is in the hamlet--that is, unless my son has taken it acrossthe Rhine with him."
"That we will soon learn," answered the priest.
Here a novice appeared from the vestiary of the chapel at his call,and received commands to inquire at the hamlet whether Philipson'sbales, with the horse which transported them, had been left there, orferried over along with his son.
The novice, being absent a few minutes, presently returned with thebaggage-horse, which, with its burden, Arthur, from regard to hisfather's accommodation, had left on the western side of the river. Thepriest looked on attentively, while the elder Philipson, mounting hisown horse, and taking the rein of the other in his hand, bade theBlack Priest adieu in these words,--"And now, father, farewell! Imust pass on with my bales, since there is little wisdom in travellingwith them after nightfall, else would I gladly suit my pace, with yourpermission, so as to share the way with you."
"If it is your obliging purpose to do so, as indeed I was about topropose," said the priest, "know I will be no stay to your journey. Ihave here a good horse; and Melchior, who must otherwise have gone onfoot, may ride upon your sumpter-horse. I the rather propose thiscourse, as it will be rash for you to travel by night. I can conductyou to an hostelry about five miles off, which we may reach withsufficient daylight, and where you will be lodged safely for yourreckoning."
The English merchant hesitated a moment. He had no fancy for any newcompanion on the road, and although the countenance of the priest wasrather handsome, considering his years, yet the expression was such asby no means invited confidence. On the contrary, there was somethingmysterious and gloomy which clouded his brow, though it was a loftyone, and a similar expression gleamed in his cold grey eye, andintimated severity and even harshness of disposition. Butnotwithstanding this repulsive circumstance, the priest had latelyrendered Philipson a considerable service, by detecting the treacheryof his hypocritical guide, and the merchant was not a man to bestartled from his course by any imaginary prepossessions against thelooks or manners of any one, or apprehensions of machinations againsthimself. He only revolved in his mind the singularity attending hisdestiny, which, while it was necessary for him to appear before theDuke of Burgundy in the most conciliatory manner, seemed to force uponhim the adoption of companions who must needs be obnoxious to thatprince; and such, he was too well aware, must be the case with thePriest of St. Paul's. Having reflected for an instant, he courteouslyaccepted the offer of the priest to guide him to some place of restand entertainment, which must be absolutely necessary for his horsebefore he reached Strasburg, even if he himself could have dispensedwith it.
The party being thus arranged, the novice brought forth the priest'ssteed, which he mounted with grace and agility, and the neophyte,being probably the same whom Arthur had represented during his escapefrom La Ferette, took charge, at his master's command, of thebaggage-horse of the Englishman; and crossing himself, with a humbleinclination of his head, as the priest passed him, he fell into therear, and seemed to pass the time, like the false brother Bartholomew,in telling his beads, with an earnestness which had perhaps more ofaffected than of real piety. The Black Priest of St. Paul's, to judgeby the glance which he cast upon his novice, seemed to disdain theformality of the young man's devotion. He rode upon a strong blackhorse, more like a warrior's charger than the ambling palfrey of apriest, and the manner in which he managed him was entirely devoid ofawkwardness and timidity. His pride, whatever was its character, wasnot certainly of a kind altogether professional, but had its origin inother swelling thoughts which arose in his mind, to mingle with andenhance the self-consequence of a powerful ecclesiastic.
As Philipson looked on his companion from time to time, hisscrutinising glance was returned by a haughty smile, which seemed tosay, "You may gaze on my form and features, but you cannot penetratemy mystery."
The looks of Philipson, which were never known to sink before mortalman, seemed to retort, with equal haughtiness, "Nor shall you, proudpriest, know that you are now in company with one whose secret is farmore important than thine own can be."
At length the priest made some advance towards conversation, byallusion to the footing upon which, by a mutual understanding, theyseemed to have placed their intercourse.
"We travel then," he said, "like two powerful enchanters, eachconscious of his own high and secret purpose; each in his own chariotof clouds, and neither imparting to his companion the direction orpurpose of his journey."
"Excuse me, father," answered Philipson; "I have neither asked yourpurpose, nor concealed my own, so far as it concerns you. I repeat, Iam bound to the presence of the Duke of Burgundy, and my object, likethat of any other merchant, is to dispose of my wares to advantage."
"Doubtless, it would seem so," said the Black Priest, "from theextreme attention to your merchandise, which you showed not above halfan hour since, when you knew not whether your bales had crossed theriver with your son, or were remaining in your own charge. Are Englishmerchants usually so indifferent to the sources of their traffic?"
"When their lives are in danger," said Philipson, "they are sometimesnegligent of their fortune."
"It is well," replied the priest, and again resumed his solitarymusings; until another half-hour's travelling brought them to a_dorf_, or village, which the Black Priest informed
Philipson was thatwhere he proposed to stop for the night.
"The novice," he said, "will show you the inn, which is of goodreputation, and where you may lodge with safety. For me, Ihave to visit a penitent in this village who desires my ghostlyoffices;--perhaps I may see you again this evening, perhaps not tillthe next morning;--at any rate, adieu for the present."
So saying, the priest stopped his horse, while the novice, comingclose up to Philipson's side, conducted him onward through the narrowstreet of the village, whilst the windows exhibited here and there atwinkling gleam, announcing that the hour of darkness was arrived.Finally, he led the Englishman through an archway into a sort ofcourtyard, where there stood a car or two of a particular shape, usedoccasionally by women when they travel, and some other vehicles of thesame kind. Here the young man threw himself from the sumpter-horse,and placing the rein in Philipson's hand, disappeared in theincreasing darkness, after pointing to a large but dilapidatedbuilding, along the front of which not a spark of light was to bediscovered from any of the narrow and numerous windows, which weredimly visible in the twilight.
FOOTNOTE:
[9] This is one of the best and most popular of the German ditties:--
"Am Rhein, am Rhein, da wachsen unsere Reben, Gesegnet sei der Rhein," &c.
