"From time to time, those who composed the cavalcade paused as it reached higher ground, in order to contemplate the magnificent spectacle before them and the effect produced by the doubtful and fleeting shadows which rested on the fields, on the dark woods, and on the broken and uncertain line in the southern horizon which indicated the summits of the Pyrenees. The air was full of the perfume of newly-cut hay; the leaves sent forth a trembling murmur; the cricket uttered his sharp chirrup in the meadows; the quail's short, flute-like cry was heard, and all in nature harmonized with the beauty of the summer night."

The party, who are travelling at this hour in order to avoid the heats of the day, are then introduced by the narrator as the Baron de Lescun and his niece, Marie, an orphan confided to his care: they are on their way to the Court of Gaston Phoebus, Count of Foix, at Orthez, who is about to give a series of _fetes_ and tournaments: they have been joined by a lady and her son--the Dame d'Artiguelouve (a name of old standing in Bearn, and still existing,)--and the young _domenger_, (the Bernais t.i.tle of _Damoiseau_,) Odon, escorted by their pages and valets.

Conversation ensues between them, in which the young lady expresses some doubts as to their prudence in choosing so witching an hour, however beautiful the time, for their journey; when it is known that evil spirits and sorcerers are abroad on their foul errands.

They presently arrive on the territory of f.a.get, when they are startled to observe, as if flitting near them, human forms, which glide noiselessly along, like shades in the darkness. Some of these mysterious beings placed themselves in a stooping position on the margin of the streams, with their faces bent close to the water. Others, divesting themselves of their garments, entered, with hurried and noiseless stops, a neighbouring field of oats, and there concealed themselves. Some of the strangers were astonished at what they saw, and could not resolve in their own minds whether or not these were, indeed, phantoms that appeared in their path.

"'Midnight must be near, and the _fete_ of St. Jean is about to begin,'

said the Sire de Lescun; 'for these are the poor people who are on the watch for the unattainable moment, when, it is thought, the water changes into wine, and has the power of healing all their infirmities: the dew of this night, received on the body in the fields, is also said to be endowed with the same marvellous virtue.'"

A confused noise now met their ears as they entered the forest of Lorincq, and a singular spectacle was presented to them:

"The forest, all resplendent with illuminations, seemed full of bustle and animation. Numerous torches sparkled amongst the trees to which they were suspended or attached; others were borne along, whirled from place to place, their black smoke sending its long wreaths into the air, and their red flame flashing through the gloom. A thousand voices burst forth, as if simultaneously, from height and valley, above, around, and underneath; an immense crowd hurried along--some mounting, some descending--amongst the crackling branches, until the intricate alleys and close retreats of this labyrinth of verdure were filled with human beings.

"The lame and wounded, the infirm and paralytic grouped themselves around the fountains, to be ready at the right moment to plunge their afflicted limbs in the cold waters, and then to cast in their offering of a piece of money: some, providing for the future, busied themselves in filling, from the beneficent source, their vases and pitchers to overflowing; for it was firmly believed, that, in memory of the holy baptism administered by the patron of the _fete_, Heaven had endowed the waters with peculiar powers during that favoured night; allowing the virtue to take effect from midnight to the rising of the sun.

"In the humid fern might be seen cattle sent to graze at will, in the hope of being cured of some malady, their tinkling bells indicating where they wandered. Parties of old men, women, and children, dispersed here and there, were eating cakes prepared for the occasion; while young men and girls danced in circles beneath the ash and elm trees, to the sound of the _flute of three notes_, accompanied by the nasal cadence of the lute of six strings.

"After halting for a considerable time, and taking their part in the religious advantages of the _fete_, the cavalcade resumed its route; and soon descended into the valley of the Bayse, as the sky began to be tinged with the hue of dawn. When they arrived at the hospital of Aubertin, the first rays of the sun were casting a golden light on the Roman transepts of the church."

At the moment that the Dame d'Artiguelouve and her son are alighting from their horses, they are arrested, and impressed with a superst.i.tious feeling of terror, by observing a fine white courser at the door of the church, held by a page. This was, at the period, a bad omen for the stranger who first saw it, and boded no good to any one.

"'I would not', said Joan Bordenabe--a peasant standing by,--'for the castle of Artiguelouve, have met with so bad an omen, as the Ena[41]

Ga.r.s.ende and her n.o.ble son, who have come at once, face to face, with that animal, covered, as it would seem by his colour, with the snows of the Pyrenees: by our Lady of Sarrance, their future years will be as black as he is white!'

"'But,' replied his companion, 'if I were the knight to whom the charger belongs, I would part with him instantly, even if, at the same time as I drowned him, I must throw into the Gave my sword and golden spurs: don't you see that spiteful-looking magpie, which has just started up before him, after having chattered in his very face? What awful signs of evil are these! and on such a morning, at the rising of the sun! * * * May the _bon Dieu_, the Holy Virgin, and the white fairies of the subterranean caves, who are always combing their hair at the first glimpse of dawn, and looking into the clear mirror of the fountains, protect that beautiful young lady, who is at this moment entering the church. It is to be hoped she has made an ample provision of fennel to lay under her bed's head, and in her oratory, to counteract the evil influence of the _Brouches_!'"[42]

[Footnote 41: En and Ena are t.i.tles of Bearnaise n.o.bility, answering to the Spanish Don and Dona.]

[Footnote 42: Witches or Sorcerers of Bearn.]

While the young lady, Marie de Lignac, enters the church to perform her devotions, the rest of the party leave her, to join the chase of the wild boar, which the Lord of Artiguelouve, the father of Odon, is following, as his horns announce, in the adjacent forest.

The Hospital of Aubertin, which still exists, is a building of the twelfth century, and was one of many establishments depending on the order of monks hospitalers of Sainte Christine: it served as an asylum to the pilgrims of St. James, and as a resting-place to travellers going and coming to and from Spain, Marie found the church filled with persons of different professions: merchants from Arragon and Catalonia; pilgrims adorned with palms and c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.ls, emblems of their wandering; shepherds in their red dresses and brown berret-caps; and wayfarers of many sorts, waiting only for the morning to continue their journey in various directions, and offering up their prayers previously to setting out. Among others, she noticed particularly a young knight (un beau caver[43]) devoutly kneeling at the foot of the altar of the Virgin, while his archers and men-at-arms were engaged in prayer close behind him: she judged that to him must belong the white charger at the church-door, which had inspired the peasants with so much superst.i.tious terror. Nothing appeared to disturb the devotion of the knight; neither the neighing of steeds without, nor the clatter of the hoofs of mules in the court, as the different groups prepared to depart; nor the coming and going of the merely curious, who were busied observing the beauty of the edifice, the materials of which, according to popular belief, were furnished by the Holy Virgin herself, who directed the elaborate and beautiful ornaments of the pillars and cornices still to be seen there.

[Footnote 43: _Caver_. Chevalier, knight.]

The knight's costume was half civil, half military; of one sombre colour, without blazon or distinction--a circ.u.mstance unusual at the period: the expression of his face was grave and melancholy: he was somewhat bronzed with the sun, otherwise his complexion was fair, and his blue eyes were full of character and softness.

Even the appearance of the lady does not cause the knight to cease his prayers, and she remains looking upon him, half-divided between her duty and a sudden feeling of admiration and involuntary esteem for which she is unable to account, except by considering him as an apparition sent from heaven,--when a violent noise without, accompanied by the cries of hunters and their horns, effectually put a stop to the religious occupation of all within the church. All hurry out, and, amongst the rest--her orisons over--is the young lady, attended by her page. She had scarcely left the door, and was hastening to the neighbouring hostelry, when she saw before her, at a very short distance, surrounded by a furious pack of hounds, who, bleeding and wounded, were yet attacking their enemy boldly, an enormous wild boar, evidently rendered savage by his sufferings. The beast rushed along, his white tusks gleaming fearfully, and his hot breath already reaching the terrified girl and her feeble protector. Marie turned back, and darted towards the open door of the church, and in another moment might have been out of the reach of the infuriated animal; but a stone imprudently aimed at the boar by a peasant from the wood, sent him, foaming, exactly in the direction she had taken. She saw there was no escape--made a bound, and fell senseless on the threshold of the church: the boar had just reached the spot, and one stroke of his terrible tusk had sufficed to crush the fragile being, who lay extended before him, when a young peasant, with a swiftness almost supernatural, interposed between her and her fate; and, with an axe with which he was armed, discharged so well-directed a blow on the head of the brute, that he extended him dead at his feet.

Certainly, never had succour arrived at a time of more need; and it was impossible to deny that the young man's intrepidity had saved the lady's life: nevertheless, when the crowd collected around them, as Marie, a.s.sisted by her terrified page, began to recover consciousness, and her deliverer stood, his axe yet reeking with the blood of the animal from whom he had saved her, and whose carcase lay recking, the skull cleft in two,--it was with anything but applause or commendation that this act of self-devotion was hailed by all present.

As they cast their eyes on the coa.r.s.e and ragged garb of the young man, those nearest observed on the breast a certain piece of red cloth, cut in the form of _a goose's foot_: a cry of horror and contempt, mingled with surprise, accompanied this discovery, and the words--"It is a Cagot! it is a Cagot!" rang through the a.s.sembly, and was repeated by a hundred voices in different intonations of horror. * * *

The object of this popular disgust was a tall, handsome, powerfully-built youth, fair, and of fine complexion: he stood in an easy att.i.tude, in which the majesty of recent action was conspicuous: his colour was heightened, and his bright eyes flashed with satisfaction at the deed he had performed; but when he heard the rage of the people rising, and the fatal and detested name of _Cagot_ sounded in his ears, a far different feeling--the consciousness of his utter degradation, which he had for a moment forgotten, returned to him with added force.

Suddenly recalled from his illusion, his head sunk mournfully on his bosom, and he seemed at once to retire within himself, gathering all the courage and patience of which he was capable to enable him to endure the outrages and violence which he knew but too well awaited him.

"'Accursed Cagot![44]--down with the accursed Cagot!' repeated a host of confused voices.

[Footnote 44: At the period at which this story is laid, the Cagots were called _Chrestiaas_, but the term _Cagot_, adopted later is more generally known in Bearn.]

"'Death to the leprous wretch!--to the river with him!--drag him to the river!--he has infected our fields--the holy dew is on him yet!'

"'He has laid his infected hands on our master's goods--he has dared to touch the game!' cried one of the huntsmen, coming up.

"'Hound of ill omen!' thundered Odon d'Artiguelouve, dashing through all the crowd, with his lady-mother and all his mounted attendants--'has he dared to place his devilish claw on that which belongs to us?'

"'He has bewitched our woods, and blighted our harvests!' exclaimed a peasant, giving him a blow, and spitting in his face.

"'To the flames with the sorcerer!--to the fire with the broomstick-rider!--to the fire with the comrade of the infernal spirits!' cried others; and one threw at him a half-burnt log of the St.

John's fire, which, striking him on the forehead, sent the unfortunate Cagot reeling to the foot of a tree, against which he leaned for support.

This, and much more insult was lumped upon the unfortunate young man, accompanied by furious howlings and execrations, which became every moment louder: hisses, laughter, and showers of mud and stones were sent towards him as he stood, motionless and calm; his eyes half-closed; without uttering a groan or a word; but, apparently, resolved to endure without shrinking the undeserved fate which pursued him.

Every moment the crowd increased, and with it the fury of popular hatred, until, at length, fatigued with the patience of their victim, the people proposed at once to drag the Cagot to the river. He was, therefore, seized, bound, and, in spite of his resistance and his strength, they prepared to carry their threats into execution; at the same time uttering those savage cries, known in the country as _les cris Basques_, and imitating, in derision of the wretched creature they were injuring, the sharp voice of the goose, and the nasal call of the duck.

The young Ena Marie, for whose sake her deliverer was thus suffering, wept, entreated, and appealed to the senseless mult.i.tude in vain, and implored the mercy of Odon and Dame Ga.r.s.ende, who treated her prayers with indifference, and appeared to think the conduct of the mob perfectly justifiable. But, at the moment when all hope seemed lost, the interference of the young knight of the church prevented the execution of the crime about to be perpetrated.

Followed by his archers and men-at-arms, he rushed forward, and commanded that the prisoner should be released, in a tone and with gestures so commanding, that the astonished crowd was, for a time, arrested in their project, and a general silence ensued, presently broken by a voice at a distance, which exclaimed--"n.o.ble and generous child! the blessing of Heaven be on thee!" All eyes were directed towards the speaker--an old man with silver hair, clothed in a dark mantle, with the hood drawn over his head: he stood on an elevated mound above the scene of action, and on finding himself observed hurried away from the spot.

Meantime, taking advantage of the awe his appearance had excited in the public mind, the knight hastened to the poor Cagot, cut with his sword the cords which bound him, and set him at liberty. Amazement was painted on the victim's countenance, as he observed the relief which approached him: to be the object of care to a n.o.ble knight--to be defended, treated like a human creature was indeed a prodigy to him! The being, but an instant before stupified and inert, from whom insult and injury had drawn no cry nor tear, this evidence of humanity touched to the quick: he cast a long look of tenderness and grat.i.tude on his deliverer; and large tears rolled down his bleeding cheeks. But the panic of the instant soon pa.s.sed away; hoa.r.s.e murmurs arose, and threatening words, and the tumult recommenced, Odon d'Artiguelouve advanced to the knight, and demanded, in a haughty tone, by what right he interfered with the execution of the laws.

"'I am not a stranger to this country,' replied he, calmly, 'though it is some time since I quitted it; and I know its _fors_ and _customs_ probably as well as you can do, Messire.'

"'Then,' answered Odon, 'you should know that a Cagot is forbidden to appear in an a.s.sembly of citizens, and that all commerce with them is expressly denied him; that he has no right to touch any article intended for their use; and yet you defend this wretch, who has defiled, by the contact of his accursed hand, the game which belongs to a gentleman.'

"'It appears, then,' answered the knight, with bitter irony, 'that a gentleman singularly loves his game, since he attaches more value to a boar's head than to the life of a n.o.ble lady, which this poor Cagot preserved at the risk of injuring one of these precious animals.'

"'Was it for high deeds of this nature,' interposed the Lady of Artiguelouve, seeing that her son's countenance fell, 'that the knight took his vows, when he received the honour of the accolade?'

"'I swore, madam,' answered the _caver_, 'to consecrate my arms to the service of religion, and the defence of the widow, the orphan, and the _unprotected_.'

"'And by what enchantment,' rejoined Dame Ga.r.s.ende, 'does your knight-errantship behold in us giants or monsters?'

"'A loyal and christian knight ever sees a monster in oppression, madam.

No man can be punished before he is judged, and I see here neither jury, court of knights, or _cour majour_.'

"'If that is all,' cried Odon, 'every formality shall be gone through.

Seize this miserable wretch, my friends, and drag him to the justice-seat; we will follow.'"

An immediate movement was made to obey this order; but the knight again interfered.

"'It is well,' said he; 'but if you have a right to take him before a court, he has that of claiming sanctuary. From whence come you, friend?'

he added, turning to the Cagot.

"'From the Vallee d'Aspe, sir knight,' was the answer.

"'Then, it would suffice to reach the Pene d'Escot, at the entrance of this valley, to be in an inviolable security, and we would, if it were necessary, escort you as far; but closer still a refuge attends you; you have only to reach the _circle of sanctuary_ which yon church of Aubertin offers.'"[45]