CHAPTER VI.
THE POWER OF ASSOCIATION.
As the boys returned by the same road, which presented no new objectsto excite their curiosity, much less time was consumed in measuring thesame distance; and they ascended the eminence upon which the castle wassituated, and stood before its principal entrance long before night.
It was one of the few old feudal strongholds still remaining in Francethat had not been suffered to go to decay by its possessors. It hadbeen the property of a grand seignior (derived from his ancestors),who, having built a modern chateau near it, with extensive stablesand other out-buildings, kept the old castle in complete repair, tillsacked by a mob during the reign of terror.
It had evidently been a place of great strength, but occupying so muchspace that a large garrison would be required to man its exteriorfortifications. It was beautifully situated upon a noble swell ofland, falling away in natural terraces to the stream upon whose bankswere clustered the dwellings of the peasants. The hand of violence hadswept away all but the relics of its former magnificence and beauty.The axe had levelled the vast groves and long avenues of oak, chestnut,beech, and massive pines,--which had for ages delighted the eye andgratified the taste, and beneath whose hoary limbs generations hadlived and died,--except one clump of large pines, at some distance inthe rear of the fortress.
Everything without the walls that would burn had been consumed by fire,while the tall chimney of the chateau, and other buildings standingamid heaps of rubbish, the wild weeds springing from the joints of thehearth-stones, imparted a peculiarly desolate appearance to the scene.
Gunpowder had been freely used to obtain an entrance into the fortress,and afterwards to destroy it; but such was the enormous thickness ofthe walls that but comparatively little impression had been producedupon them, although single apartments had been blown up and wholefloors had fallen, the pillars which supported them having been mined.Entire floors, supported at one end by the beams, which still remainedin the walls, and a few pillars, while the remaining portion lay uponheaps of rubbish, bricks, mortar, fragments of clothes, domesticutensils, curved frames, broken china and glass ware of the rarestpatterns and the richest colors, presented an inclined plane, up whichthe boys clambered to the apartments above, passing through chambersonce the abode of luxury, but from whose walls the rich tapestryhung in tatters, exposed to sun and wind, that found free entrancethrough shattered casements and demolished doors. The boys gazed withwonder upon the relics of a magnificence of which they had before noconception.
The most singular spectacle awaited them in the great hall of thecastle, which they now entered. Nothing remained undisfigured hereexcept the lofty arches of the roof, with its beautiful fret-work, thecarving on the capitals and some portions of the windows, by reason oftheir height difficult to reach.
The walls had been adorned with ancestral portraits of the formerinhabitants of the castle and the old French nobility, with banners andsuits of armor, statues in marble and bronze, paintings and copies ofpaintings by the greatest masters; but they were now torn from theirplaces, pierced with bullets, and battered with rocks and clubs; for,in consequence of one of those caprices which sometimes influence theconduct of a mob even in the midst of the wildest excitement, they hadabstained from using fire _within_ the walls, while they had burnedeverything combustible _outside_, although many of the timbers and muchof the panel-work bore traces of the peasants' axes, undoubtedly cutfor fire-wood.
In the midst of this spacious hall was a vast collection of articleswhich appeared to have been brought from all parts of the castle andflung here in indiscriminate confusion; marble statues, paintings,ancient armor, antlers of stags, hunting implements, and flags from oldbattle-fields.
Walter sat down upon a marble statue of a chieftain in armor, fromwhich the left arm and shield had been broken, and the face flattened.
Ned placed himself on a pile of gilded frames of large paintings he hadthrown together, and thus seated they surveyed at leisure the frettedroof, and whatever of interest and beauty had escaped the fury of theassailants.
The nearest approach to ornamental carving Walter had ever seen beforewas the plain panel-work with which Uncle Isaac ceiled up the roomshe finished, the cornice round the tops of the rooms, beneath themantel-piece, and on the front stairs; but these consisted of only fourlittle flutings with a gouge, a simple bead with a moulding-plane,or a succession of little squares made with a saw and finished upwith a jack-knife. He had also seen faces of cats on the cat-heads ofvessels, sheaves of wheat and vine-leaves carved on their sterns. Nedhad also seen these, and in addition some more ambitious efforts, inthe old meeting-house at Salem, on the sounding-board, the base, andsurroundings of the pulpit. But here they gazed upon oaken panels,displaying the most beautiful designs in the highest style of ancientor modern art; upon tapestry most beautifully wrought, fitted to adornregal halls, bleaching in the wind, rent and disfigured; picked fromthe rubbish fragments of porcelain vases, bowls, and drinking-cups, ofelaborate design and rare finish.
"I mean to carry these home," said Ned, culling from the heap a portionof a broken vase, and a large pane from one of the windows, upon whichwas represented the Saviour in the act of healing the withered hand.
"And I this," said Walter, holding up a panel upon which were carvedLaocoon and his sons, writhing in the folds of the snakes.
"Look at that window," said Ned; "only six panes of glass left, and twothirds of the sash gone."
"This sight," said Walter, "reminds me of stories I have heard MonsieurVimont, my French teacher at Salem, tell. He said the mob attackedthe chateaux and castles of the nobles, murdered their possessors, ordragged them to prison, except such as were able to save themselves byflight."
Walter, who sympathized with the refugees, and listened to his recitalof the terrible scenes through which they had passed, was muchprejudiced in favor of the nobility and against their assailants.
As they followed along the walls, noticing the shattered windows andthe positions from which the paintings and statuary had been torn, theycame to a place from which a very large painting of a knight templarin full armor had been thrown, and lay defaced upon the floor. Lyingupon this, grinding up the gilded frame, and breaking the canvas, wasone of the large stones of the wall. This stone had once been hung uponmassive hinges, now broken.
Through the opening it had once closed a flight of stairs was visible,constructed in the thickness of the wall by an arrangement of thestones at the time of building, and which led to the foundation of thecastle.
Ned was burning with impatience to enter the opening and see whitherthe stairs led; but Walter, naturally interested in everything of amechanical nature, would not proceed till he had ascertained the methodby which an entrance was effected. He found the whole painting had beenraised by hidden weights, and, by the pressure of a spring adroitlyconcealed in the frame, was elevated sufficiently to permit of passingunder it, when by the pressure of another spring the stone was set freeand sprung outwards, affording an entrance, after which, by concealedmechanism, the whole was restored as before. When he had mastered theprinciple of the machinery, they descended the stairs, from the bottomof which a winding passage led to a corridor from which several doorsopened into vaulted chambers dimly lighted by slits in the walls. Someof them appeared to have been used as dungeons, ring-bolts, with chainsattached, being secured to the walls.
As they proceeded they came to another door admitting to a windingpassage-way, entirely dark; but, their curiosity being excited, theycontinued to grope their way, carefully placing one foot in advance,and dragging the other after, lest they might stumble into some pit.
At length Ned, who led the way, suddenly stopped and gave back.
"What is the matter, Ned? What are you stopping for?"
"Walter," he exclaimed in a half whisper, "there's something here,under my feet. I've put my hand on it, and I believe it's some deadman; there's something feels like clothes and buttons."
"Drag it out to where it's lighter; or let me, if you don't like to."
"Do you think I'm afraid?"
Ned began to step backward, dragging the object after him, while Walterthrew open the doors leading to the vaults. By the glimmering of lightthus obtained, they beheld the skeleton of a human body, held togetherby the articulations of the joints, the clothes, dried gristle, andsinews, being partially mummified.
Neither of the boys had ever seen the human skeleton before, or evenso much as a bone, and this was to them a fearful sight--the teethwhite and prominent, the eyeless sockets, and the remaining portionof the skull black with decayed flesh that still adhered to it (forthe air was cool and dry, ventilation being in some way provided). Theright hand had dropped off, the stump of the wrist projecting from thesleeve, while the blackened bones and shrivelled sinews of the leftremained in place.
"It was a boy," said Ned; "you can see by the clothes."
"Poor fellow, he was about your size."
"His hair," said Ned, pointing to some brown locks that had lodged inthe breast of the coat, "was just the color of yours. Think he wasmurdered?"
"I expect so, for it don't seem likely that a place as strong as thiswas given up without a struggle, unless it was occupied only by afamily, or was surprised."
"Then, perhaps, there's more in there."
"Let us try to make some kind of a torch. I want to see all there is,and to find where this secret passage leads to that so much pains wastaken to make and conceal."
Returning, the boys hunted over the great heap of rubbish in the hall,and searched every nook and corner in order to find a lamp or waxcandle (which they knew were much used in that country), but in vain.
"O, if we were only at home," said Walter, "instead of being in thiswretched country, how quick I could get a piece of pitch wood, or stripthe bark from a birch tree, and make a first-rate torch; but there areno birches here, and no old pines with any pitch wood in 'em."
"But we shouldn't have any castles there to see," said Ned.
At last they found an iron pot, and resolved to build a fire in that,and carry it as a torch.
While they were breaking up pieces of dry wood for that purpose, Nedexclaimed, "Who knows but olive wood will burn well. I should think itwould be full of oil."
"Perhaps it will."
They broke some branches from the trees, and put them in the pot withpine slivers from old panels. Walter took a horn full of tinder fromhis pack, and, holding it between his knees, with an old file andflint-stone struck the sparks into the horn till he ignited the tindersufficiently to light a brimstone match, and kindled his fire in thepot, when they found that the olive wood burned freely, lasted longer,and afforded a better light, than the pine or oak; therefore theyprocured more of it.
"Now for something to carry it with," said Ned; "and here it is,"pulling a long iron rod from the pile of miscellaneous articles thatstrewed the floor.
"And here is something to hold a supply of wood," said Walter, pickingup a steel helmet and filling it with the chips.
With the kettle of blazing brands between them, they proceeded toexplore the passage.
The first object that arrested their attention (and almost touching adoor, through the grates of which a fresh current of air, fragrant withthe scent of the earth and fields, was blowing) was the skeleton of anaged man. The skull had been cleft by some sharp weapon; long locks ofgray hair strewed the floor, and across the breast of the skeleton laythat of a dog, the fore paws outstretched, and the nose thrust amongthe clothes that covered the breast.
"O, Walter," cried Ned, the tears springing to his eyes, "what a sight!"
"The saddest sight I ever saw. That dog starved to death because hewould not leave his master."
"I shall always love a dog after this."
"They are noble creatures. Did you ever see what was on Tige Rhines'scollar?"
"About his taking the little girl from the mill pond?"
"Yes; and that is not all he did; he saved the lives of John, CharlieBell, and Fred Williams, by waking them up when they were asleep in acave into which the tide was flowing."
"This must be that boy's father," said Ned. "Or his grandfather,"replied Walter. "He was murdered, at any rate," pointing to the clovenskull.
"See here, Wal," holding a brand close to the floor; "see the blood alldried on the stones."
"Poor old man, cut down with his hand almost on the door! That doorleads out, for I can smell the fresh air, and feel it warm on my cheek.Let's see if we can open it, Wal."
The upper part of the door was grated. They shook it, and exertedthemselves to the utmost to wrench it open, but without success.
"Hold up a brand, Ned; perhaps I can find a fastening."
Walter searched carefully, but in vain, for any lock, bolt, or otherfastening.
"If I only had a sledge, or hammer, and cold chisel, I'd cut thesegrates off, short notice."
"I saw a crowbar outside, among some garden tools," said Ned.
"Get it; that's the thing."
Walter plied the bar upon the grates till the sparks flew from theiron, and the sweat dropped from his forehead; but it resisted hisefforts.
"Let me spell you, Wal."
"Try the wood below, Ned."
"It is oak, and studded with iron; but I'll try it."
After a few blows, the door flew open of its own accord. Ned, by arandom stroke, had moved the spring.
"That's good luck, Ned. Go ahead."
They soon encountered another similar door.
"Now, Ned, I'm just going back to look at that spring."
By the knowledge thus obtained, Walter was enabled to detect a similarspring in this door, though in a different place.
They now began to perceive the light, and came to a horizontal grate,which was unfastened, and reached by only two steps. Walter flungit back, and they crawled out on their hands and knees beneath anoverhanging cliff (through which the passage was cut), and into atangle of wild vines that clung to the cliffs, weeds, brambles, andshrubs, effectually concealing the passage from casual observation.
"Whoever built this," said Ned, "knew how to make secret passages. Onemight pass this place all his lifetime, and never suspect it."
"It didn't do them much good," said Walter. "I'd rather live in acountry where they are not needed. Ned, don't you think we ought to putthis father and son in the ground?"
"I was thinking of that."
"What can we find to dig a grave with?"
"When I went after the crowbar, I found it among a lot of gardentools; there were shovels, rakes, and hoes, but the handles were allburnt away."
"No matter; we'll bury them in the old garden, where the ground ismellow; we can make a hole with the bar, and throw out the loose earthwith the shovel-blades, if they _have_ no handles."
A shallow grave was soon dug in the soft mould.
"We buried a man from the Madras," said Ned; "he was sewed up incanvas."
"We lost the second mate when I was in the Casco," said Walter; "he wasburied ashore, and we put the American flag on the coffin for a pall.Suppose we should wrap their bones in these flags taken from the walls;they are their country's flags."
"I suppose they would like it if they could know it, and would ratherlie here, where the nightingales will sing in the summer, than in thatdark alley."
They carefully gathered the bones, wrapped them in the tatteredbanners, and committed them to the earth.
"What shall we do with the dog, Walter?"
"Do with him? Bury him with them."
"In the same grave?"
"To be sure; at their feet. He was the best and only friend they had,and died on his master's breast; he is worthy to sleep in marble."
"Well, I feel just so; but I didn't know."
The sun was just sinking behind the horizon, and his last lingeringrays fell, as it were, in benediction upon the boys, as, feeling thenecessity of instant preparation for the night, they hastened from t
hespot. Admonished by the approaching twilight, they went rapidly fromroom to room, in order to select one suited to their purpose.
"Let us go out of this hall," said Ned, "into God's air, and get clearof rubbish, musty walls, and dead men's bones."
"Yes, into that clump of pines. I had rather lug the wood, and be outof doors."
It was not long before they heaped together a great pile of oakenbeams, boards, picture-frames, broken furniture, and panels, and,seated by the ruddy blaze, were enjoying a hearty meal, till, full evento repletion, they seated themselves with their backs against a tree toenjoy the grateful warmth of the fire.
The rising moon began to silver the lofty towers of the ancientcastle, and quivered on the stream, visible at different points betweenthe cottages of the peasants, while the rush of water, pouring throughthe rents of the broken dam, rose on the air. Not a breath of windstirred the foliage. The only sounds, contesting with the murmur ofwaters the empire of the night, were the crackling of the fire and theoccasional bleat of a sheep on the mountain. It is singular to what anextent peculiar states of feeling impart a tinge, sombre or otherwise,to impressions produced by surrounding objects and events.
As Walter sat thus, with the crackling of the fire in his ear, and theruddy blaze playing on his cheek, he said,--
"I think this is a nice country, after all; rather dry, to be sure;a good deal of waste land, covered with gravel and stones broughtdown from the mountains. We have seen some beautiful valleys of mostexcellent land. The people are kind and hospitable, and, if they werenot so shiftless, might, with their climate and soil, raise two crops ayear. What are you thinking about, Ned?"
"About what my mother would say, if she knew I was making a fire ofmahogany chairs, looking-glass frames, harpsichords, and carved work.I wonder if any boy ever did that before."
"Perhaps some soldiers have."
After this they sat some time, hand clasped in hand, and each occupiedwith his own thoughts.
"I should like to know what you are thinking about, Wal."
"You see that little cove the river has eaten out of the bank?"
"You mean where the moonlight is shining on that large rock, and besidewhich a tree is growing?"
"That is the spot. Well, the Saturday afternoon before I was goingto sea for the first time, in the Madras, I went to the catechising,because I knew that I should find all the boys and girls there, and Iwanted to bid them good by. After that I kept on to Charlie Bell's. Itwas a moonlight evening, just like this; and after supper we went tothe head of Pleasant Cove, sat down, and leaned our backs against anoak, just as you and I are leaning against this pine. We could hear thebrook that runs through his field, behind us, just as we can hear thisstream below, and the ripple of the tide as it crept along the beach.I felt tender that night, for I loved Charlie Bull dearly. You know,Ned, how a boy feels, if he does want to go, when the time comes."
"_That I do._ When he's thinking about going, longing to be off, andhis folks trying to put him off the notion, then he's all stirredup, and only thinks about getting away; but, when they've giventheir consent, he has signed the articles, packed his chest, got hisprotection at the Custom house, is sure of going, and all is settled,then, if he has a good home, and any soul in him, it will give him theheartache to say good by. There never was a boy more crazy to go to seathan I was--counting the days till the vessel was ready. She lay in thestream, ready to sail in the morning. After supper the second mate tookme and three men whom he could trust, and went ashore. We were orderedto be down to the boat at nine o'clock. It was seven when I reachedhome. Didn't those two hours go quick as I sat on the sofa in theparlor, between father and mother, and my sisters before me. When thebell rang for nine, and I got up to start for the beach, I didn't feelaltogether so keen for going as I did the week before."
"That was what I meant. I felt just so that night, while Charlie andI sat together at the head of Pleasant Cove, beneath the oak, and hetalked to me."
"What did he say?"
"A great many things. He wanted me to love God and pray to him; he saidthere would be nights at sea when the moon would be shining on theocean, just as it was then upon the waters of that cove; that he shouldlook at it and think of me; hoped I would look at it and think of himand his words; and that as the same planets were above us, so the sameGod was around our daily paths; that perhaps when I thought that somedear friend I loved much was thinking of and praying for me, I shouldfeel I ought to pray for myself."
"Have you never thought of it before to-night?"
"Thought of it? Yes, truly. On many a bright moonlight night, when youand I have been pacing the deck together, have I been occupied withthose memories. You may think it strange, but they were in my mind whenthe shot from that English ship of the line was flying round us; butthe moon shining on the water in that little bight, the sound of thestream, as we sit against this pine, and perhaps what we have just beendoing, bring it home as never before."
"I love you, Wal," said Ned, laying his head in his friend's lap.
"Tell me some news; I knew that before," said Walter, patting his cheek.
"I have thought a good many times, lately, that you didn't seem asyou used to. I never heard you say anything about doing good tillthis voyage; before, it was always getting rich and rushing things. Isuppose it was because he talked with you, made you have this feeling."
"I don't know; I always had something of it; always admired it inCharlie Bell and Uncle Isaac, and longed to do something--I didn't knowwhat--that was not altogether for myself."
"Have you ever done what Charlie asked you to that night?"
"What? Pray to God?"
"Yes."
"No; I only say my prayers when I turn in; don't you?"
"No, I never was brought up to. Will you say the Lord's prayer with me,Ned?"
"Shall we kneel?"
They knelt together between the roots of the pine, after which theyreplenished the fire, rolled themselves in their blankets, and weresoon asleep.
The Young Deliverers of Pleasant Cove Page 7