Anne of Geierstein; Or, The Maiden of the Mist. Volume 2 (of 2)

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XVII.

  Here's a weapon now, Shall shake a conquering general in his tent, A monarch on his throne, or reach a prelate, However holy be his offices, E'en while he serves the altar. _Old Play._

  From this time all was activity in the Duke of Burgundy's court andarmy. Money was collected, soldiers were levied, and certain news ofthe Confederates' motions only were wanting to bring on the campaign.But although Charles was, to all outward appearance, as active asever, yet those who were more immediately about his person were ofopinion that he did not display the soundness of mind or the energy ofjudgment which had been admired in him before these calamities. He wasstill liable to fits of moody melancholy, similar to those whichdescended upon Saul, and was vehemently furious when aroused out ofthem. Indeed, the Earl of Oxford himself seemed to have lost the powerwhich he had exercised over him at first. Nay, though in generalCharles was both grateful and affectionate towards him, he evidentlyfelt humbled by the recollection of his having witnessed his impotentand disastrous condition, and was so much afraid of Lord Oxford beingsupposed to lead his counsels, that he often repelled his advice,merely, as it seemed, to show his own independence of mind.

  In these froward humours the Duke was much encouraged by Campo-basso.That wily traitor now saw his master's affairs tottering to theirfall, and he resolved to lend his lever to the work, so as to entitlehim to a share of the spoil. He regarded Oxford as one of the mostable friends and counsellors who adhered to the Duke; he thought hesaw in his looks that he fathomed his own treacherous purpose, andtherefore he hated and feared him. Besides, in order perhaps to colourover, even to his own eyes, the abominable perfidy he meditated, heaffected to be exceedingly enraged against the Duke for the latepunishment of marauders belonging to his Italian bands. He believedthat chastisement to have been inflicted by the advice of Oxford; andhe suspected that the measure was pressed with the hope of discoveringthat the Italians had not pillaged for their own emolument only, butfor that of their commander. Believing that Oxford was thus hostile tohim, Campo-basso would have speedily found means to take him out ofhis path, had not the Earl himself found it prudent to observe someprecautions; and the lords of Flanders and Burgundy, who loved him forthe very reasons for which the Italian abhorred him, watched over hissafety with a vigilance of which he himself was ignorant, but whichcertainly was the means of preserving his life.

  It was not to be supposed that Ferrand of Lorraine should have lefthis victory so long unimproved; but the Swiss Confederates, who werethe strength of his forces, insisted that the first operations shouldtake place in Savoy and the Pays de Vaud, where the Burgundians hadmany garrisons, which, though they received no relief, yet were noteasily or speedily reduced. Besides, the Switzers being, like most ofthe national soldiers of the time, a kind of militia, most of themreturned home, to get in their harvest, and to deposit their spoil insafety. Ferrand, therefore, though bent on pursuing his success withall the ardour of youthful chivalry, was prevented from making anymovement in advance until the month of December 1476. In the meantime,the Duke of Burgundy's forces, to be least burdensome to the country,were cantoned in distant places of his dominions, where every exertionwas made to perfect the discipline of the new levies. The Duke, ifleft to himself, would have precipitated the struggle by againassembling his forces, and pushing forward into the Helvetianterritories; but, though he inwardly foamed at the recollection ofGranson and Murten, the memory of these disasters was too recent topermit such a plan of the campaign. Meantime, weeks glided past, andthe month of December was far advanced, when one morning, as the Dukewas sitting in council, Campo-basso suddenly entered, with a degree ofextravagant rapture in his countenance, singularly different from thecold, regulated, and subtle smile which was usually his utmost advancetowards laughter. "_Guantes_,"[13] he said, "_Guantes_, for luck'ssake, if it please your Grace."

  "And what of good fortune comes nigh us?" said the Duke. "Methoughtshe had forgot the way to our gates."

  "She has returned to them, please your Highness, with her cornucopiafull of choicest gifts, ready to pour her fruit, her flowers, hertreasures, on the head of the sovereign of Europe most worthy toreceive them."

  "The meaning of all this?" said Duke Charles. "Riddles are forchildren."

  "The harebrained young madman Ferrand, who calls himself of Lorraine,has broken down from the mountains, at the head of a desultory army ofscapegraces like himself; and what think you--ha! ha! ha!--they areoverrunning Lorraine, and have taken Nancy--ha! ha! ha!"

  "By my good faith, Sir Count," said Contay, astonished at the gayhumour with which the Italian treated a matter so serious, "I haveseldom heard a fool laugh more gaily at a more scurvy jest, than you,a wise man, laugh at the loss of the principal town of the province weare fighting for."

  "I laugh," said Campo-basso, "among the spears, as my war-horsedoes--ha! ha!--among the trumpets. I laugh also over the destructionof the enemy, and the dividing of the spoil, as eagles scream theirjoy over the division of their prey; I laugh"----

  "You laugh," said the Lord of Contay, waxing impatient, "when you haveall the mirth to yourself, as you laughed after our losses at Gransonand Murten."

  "Peace, sir!" said the Duke. "The Count of Campo-basso has viewed thecase as I do. This young knight-errant ventures from the protectionof his mountains; and Heaven deal with me as I keep my oath, when Iswear that the next fair field on which we meet shall see one of usdead! It is now the last week of the old year, and before Twelfth-Daywe will see whether he or I shall find the bean in the cake.--To arms,my lords! Let our camp instantly break up, and our troops move forwardtowards Lorraine. Send off the Italian and Albanian light cavalry andthe Stradiots to scour the country in the van--Oxford, thou wilt beararms in this journey, wilt thou not?"

  "Surely," said the Earl. "I am eating your Highness's bread; and whenenemies invade, it stands with my honour to fight for your Grace as ifI was your born subject. With your Grace's permission, I will despatcha pursuivant, who shall carry letters to my late kind host, theLandamman of Unterwalden, acquainting him with my purpose."

  The Duke having given a ready assent, the pursuivant was dismissedaccordingly, and returned in a few hours, so near had the armiesapproached to each other. He bore a letter from the Landamman, in atone of courtesy and even kindness, regretting that any cause shouldhave occurred for bearing arms against his late guest, for whom heexpressed high personal regard. The same pursuivant also broughtgreetings from the family of the Biedermans to their friend Arthur,and a separate letter, addressed to the same person, of which thecontents ran thus:--

  "Rudolph Donnerhugel is desirous to give the young merchant, Arthur Philipson, the opportunity of finishing the bargain which remained unsettled between them in the castle-court of Geierstein. He is the more desirous of this, as he is aware that the said Arthur has done him wrong, in seducing the affections of a certain maiden of rank, to whom he, Philipson, is not, and cannot be, anything beyond an ordinary acquaintance. Rudolph Donnerhugel will send Arthur Philipson word when a fair and equal meeting can take place on neutral ground. In the meantime, he will be as often as possible in the first rank of the skirmishers."

  Young Arthur's heart leapt high as he read the defiance, the piquedtone of which showed the state of the writer's feelings, and arguedsufficiently Rudolph's disappointment on the subject of Anne ofGeierstein, and his suspicion that she had bestowed her affections onthe youthful stranger. Arthur found means of despatching a reply tothe challenge of the Swiss, assuring him of the pleasure with which hewould attend his commands, either in front of the line or elsewhere,as Rudolph might desire.

  Meantime the armies were closely approaching to each other, and thelight troops sometimes met. The Stradiots from the Venetian territory,a sort of cavalry resembling that of the Turks, performed much of thatservice on the part of the Burgundian army, for which
, indeed, iftheir fidelity could have been relied on, they were admirably wellqualified. The Earl of Oxford observed that these men, who were underthe command of Campo-basso, always brought in intelligence that theenemy were in indifferent order, and in full retreat. Besides,information was communicated through their means that sundryindividuals, against whom the Duke of Burgundy entertained peculiarpersonal dislike, and whom he specially desired to get into hishands, had taken refuge in Nancy. This greatly increased the Duke'sardour for retaking that place, which became perfectly ungovernablewhen he learned that Ferrand and his Swiss allies had drawn off to aneighbouring position called St. Nicholas, on the news of his arrival.The greater part of the Burgundian counsellors, together with the Earlof Oxford, protested against his besieging a place of some strength,while an active enemy lay in the neighbourhood to relieve it. Theyremonstrated on the smallness of his army, on the severity of theweather, on the difficulty of obtaining provisions, and exhorted theDuke that, having made such a movement as had forced the enemy toretreat, he ought to suspend decisive operations till spring. Charlesat first tried to dispute and repel these arguments; but when hiscounsellors reminded him that he was placing himself and his army inthe same situation as at Granson and Murten, he became furious at therecollection, foamed at the mouth, and only answered by oaths andimprecations, that he would be master of Nancy before Twelfth Day.

  Accordingly, the army of Burgundy sat down before Nancy, in a strongposition, protected by the hollow of a watercourse, and covered withthirty pieces of cannon, which Colvin had under his charge.

  Having indulged his obstinate temper in thus arranging the campaign,the Duke seemed to give a little more heed to the advice of hiscounsellors touching the safety of his person, and permitted the Earlof Oxford, with his son, and two or three officers of his household,men of approved trust, to sleep within his pavilion, in addition tothe usual guard.

  It wanted three days of Christmas when the Duke sat down before Nancy,and on that very evening a tumult happened which seemed to justify thealarm for his personal safety. It was midnight, and all in the ducalpavilion were at rest, when a cry of treason arose. The Earl ofOxford, drawing his sword, and snatching up a light which burnedbeside him, rushed into the Duke's apartment, and found him standingon the floor totally undressed, but with his sword in his hand, andstriking around him so furiously, that the Earl himself had difficultyin avoiding his blows. The rest of his officers rushed in, theirweapons drawn, and their cloaks wrapped around their left arms. Whenthe Duke was somewhat composed, and found himself surrounded by hisfriends, he informed them, with rage and agitation, that the officersof the Secret Tribunal had, in spite of the vigilant precautionstaken, found means to gain entrance into his chamber, and charged him,under the highest penalty, to appear before the Holy Vehme uponChristmas night.

  The bystanders heard this story with astonishment, and some of themwere uncertain whether they ought to consider it as a reality, or adream of the Duke's irritable fancy. But the citation was found on theDuke's toilette, written, as was the form, upon parchment, signetedwith three crosses, and stuck to the table with a knife. A slip ofwood had been also cut from the table. Oxford read the summons withattention. It named, as usual, a place where the Duke was cited tocome unarmed and unattended, and from which it was said he would beguided to the seat of judgment.

  Charles, after looking at the scroll for some time, gave vent to histhoughts.

  "I know from what quiver this arrow comes," he said. "It is shot bythat degenerate noble, apostate priest, and accomplice of sorcerers,Albert of Geierstein. We have heard that he is among the motley groupof murderers and outlaws whom the old fiddler of Provence's grandsonhas raked together. But, by St. George of Burgundy! neither monk'scowl, soldier's casque, nor conjurer's cap shall save him after suchan insult as this. I will degrade him from knighthood, hang him fromthe highest steeple in Nancy, and his daughter shall choose betweenthe meanest herd-boy in my army and the convent of _fillesrepentees_!"

  "Whatever are your purposes, my lord," said Contay, "it were surelybest be silent, when, from this late apparition, we may conjecturethat more than we wot of may be within hearing."

  The Duke seemed struck with this hint, and was silent, or at leastonly muttered oaths and threats betwixt his teeth, while the strictestsearch was made for the intruder on his repose. But it was in vain.

  Charles continued his researches, incensed at a flight of audacityhigher than ever had been ventured upon by these secret societies,who, whatever might be the dread inspired by them, had not as yetattempted to cope with sovereigns. A trusty party of Burgundians weresent on Christmas night to watch the spot (a meeting of four crossroads) named in the summons, and make prisoners of any whom they couldlay hands upon; but no suspicious persons appeared at or near theplace. The Duke not the less continued to impute the affront he hadreceived to Albert of Geierstein. There was a price set upon his head;and Campo-basso, always willing to please his master's mood, undertookthat some of his Italians, sufficiently experienced in such feats,should bring the obnoxious baron before him, alive or dead. Colvin,Contay, and others laughed in secret at the Italian's promises.

  "Subtle as he is," said Colvin, "he will lure the wild vulture fromthe heavens before he gets Albert of Geierstein into his power."

  Arthur, to whom the words of the Duke had given subject for no smallanxiety, on account of Anne of Geierstein, and of her father for hersake, breathed more lightly on hearing his menaces held so cheaply.

  It was the second day after this alarm that Oxford felt a desire toreconnoitre the camp of Ferrand of Lorraine, having some doubtswhether the strength and position of it were accurately reported. Heobtained the Duke's consent for this purpose, who at the same timemade him and his son a present of two noble steeds of great power andspeed, which he himself highly valued.

  So soon as the Duke's pleasure was communicated to the Italian count,he expressed the utmost joy that he was to have the assistance ofOxford's age and experience upon an exploratory party, and selected achosen band of an hundred Stradiots, whom he said he had sentsometimes to skirmish up to the very beards of the Switzers. The Earlshowed himself much satisfied with the active and intelligent mannerin which these men performed their duty, and drove before them anddispersed some parties of Ferrand's cavalry. At the entrance of alittle ascending valley, Campo-basso communicated to the Englishnoblemen that if they could advance to the farther extremity theywould have a full view of the enemy's position. Two or three Stradiotsthen spurred on to examine this defile, and, returning back,communicated with their leader in their own language, who, pronouncingthe passage safe, invited the Earl of Oxford to accompany him. Theyproceeded through the valley without seeing an enemy, but on issuingupon a plain at the point intimated by Campo-basso, Arthur, who was inthe van of the Stradiots, and separated from his father, did indeedsee the camp of Duke Ferrand within half a mile's distance; but a bodyof cavalry had that instant issued from it, and were riding hastilytowards the gorge of the valley from which he had just emerged. He wasabout to wheel his horse and ride off, but, conscious of the greatspeed of the animal, he thought he might venture to stay for amoment's more accurate survey of the camp. The Stradiots who attendedhim did not wait his orders to retire, but went off, as was indeedtheir duty, when attacked by a superior force.

  Meantime, Arthur observed that the knight who seemed leader of theadvancing squadron, mounted on a powerful horse that shook the earthbeneath him, bore on his shield the Bear of Berne, and had otherwisethe appearance of the massive frame of Rudolph Donnerhugel. He wassatisfied of this when he beheld the cavalier halt his party andadvance towards him alone, putting his lance in rest, and movingslowly, as if to give him time for preparation. To accept such achallenge, in such a moment, was dangerous, but to refuse it wasdisgraceful; and while Arthur's blood boiled at the idea of chastisingan insolent rival, he was not a little pleased at heart that theirmeeting on horseback gave him an advantage over the Swiss, through hisperfect acquainta
nce with the practice of the tourney, in whichRudolph might be supposed more ignorant.

  They met, as was the phrase of the time, "manful under shield." Thelance of the Swiss glanced from the helmet of the Englishman, againstwhich it was addressed, while the spear of Arthur, directed rightagainst the centre of his adversary's body, was so justly aimed, andso truly seconded by the full fury of the career, as to pierce, notonly the shield which hung round the ill-fated warrior's neck, but abreast-plate and a shirt of mail which he wore beneath it. Passingclear through the body, the steel point of the weapon was only stoppedby the back-piece of the unfortunate cavalier, who fell headlong fromhis horse, as if struck by lightning, rolled twice or thrice over onthe ground, tore the earth with his hands, and then lay prostrate adead corpse.

  There was a cry of rage and grief among those men-at-arms whose ranksRudolph had that instant left, and many couched their lances to avengehim; but Ferrand of Lorraine, who was present in person, ordered themto make prisoner, but not to harm, the successful champion. This wasaccomplished, for Arthur had not time to turn his bridle for flight,and resistance would have been madness.

  When brought before Ferrand, he raised his visor, and said, "Is itwell, my lord, to make captive an adventurous knight, for doing hisdevoir against a personal challenger?"

  "Do not complain, Sir Arthur of Oxford," said Ferrand, "before youexperience injury. You are free, Sir Knight. Your father and you werefaithful to my royal aunt Margaret, and, although she was my enemy, Ido justice to your fidelity in her behalf; and from respect to hermemory, disinherited as she was like myself, and to please mygrandfather, who I think had some regard for you, I give you yourfreedom. But I must also care for your safety during your return tothe camp of Burgundy. On this side of the hill we are loyal andtrue-hearted men, on the other they are traitors and murderers. You,Sir Count, will, I think, gladly see our captive placed in safety."

  The knight to whom Ferrand addressed himself, a tall, stately man, puthimself in motion to attend on Arthur, while the former was expressingto the young Duke of Lorraine the sense he entertained of hischivalrous conduct. "Farewell, Sir Arthur de Vere," said Ferrand. "Youhave slain a noble champion, and to me a most useful and faithfulfriend. But it was done nobly and openly, with equal arms, and in thefront of the line; and evil befall him who entertains feud first!"Arthur bowed to his saddle-bow. Ferrand returned the salutation, andthey parted.

  Arthur and his new companion had ridden but a little way up theascent, when the stranger spoke thus:--

  "We have been fellow-travellers before, young man, yet you remember menot."

  Arthur turned his eyes on the cavalier, and, observing that the crestwhich adorned his helmet was fashioned like a vulture, strangesuspicions began to cross his mind, which were confirmed when theknight, opening his helmet, showed him the dark and severe features ofthe Priest of St. Paul's.

  "Count Albert of Geierstein!" said Arthur.

  "The same," replied the count, "though thou hast seen him in othergarb and headgear. But tyranny drives all men to arms, and I haveresumed, by the licence and command of my superiors, those which I hadlaid aside. A war against cruelty and oppression is holy as that wagedin Palestine, in which priests bear armour."

  "My Lord Count," said Arthur, eagerly, "I cannot too soon entreat youto withdraw to Sir Ferrand of Lorraine's squadron. Here you are inperil, where no strength or courage can avail you. The Duke has placeda price on your head; and the country betwixt this and Nancy swarmswith Stradiots and Italian light horsemen."

  "I laugh at them," answered the count. "I have not lived so long in astormy world, amid intrigues of war and policy, to fall by the meanhand of such as they--besides, thou art with me, and I have seen butnow that thou canst bear thee nobly."

  "In your defence, my lord," said Arthur, who thought of his companionas the father of Anne of Geierstein, "I should try to do my best."

  "What, youth!" replied Count Albert with a stern sneer, that waspeculiar to his countenance; "wouldst thou aid the enemy of the lordunder whose banner thou servest against his waged soldiers?"

  Arthur was somewhat abashed at the turn given to his ready offer ofassistance, for which he had expected at least thanks; but heinstantly collected himself, and replied, "My Lord Count Albert, youhave been pleased to put yourself in peril to protect me frompartisans of your party--I am equally bound to defend you from thoseof our side."

  "It is happily answered," said the count; "yet I think there is alittle blind partisan, of whom troubadours and minstrels talk, towhose instigation I might, in case of need, owe the great zeal of myprotector."

  He did not allow Arthur, who was a good deal embarrassed, time toreply, but proceeded: "Hear me, young man--Thy lance has this day donean evil deed to Switzerland, to Berne, and Duke Ferrand, in slayingtheir bravest champion. But to me the death of Rudolph Donnerhugel isa welcome event. Know that he was, as his services grew moreindispensable, become importunate in requiring Duke Ferrand's interestwith me for my daughter's hand. And the Duke himself, the son of aprincess, blushed not to ask me to bestow the last of my house--for mybrother's family are degenerate mongrels--upon a presumptuous youngman, whose uncle was a domestic in the house of my wife's father,though they boasted some relationship, I believe, through anillegitimate channel, which yonder Rudolph was wont to make the mostof, as it favoured his suit."

  "Surely," said Arthur, "a match with one so unequal in birth, and farmore in every other respect, was too monstrous to be mentioned?"

  "While I lived," replied Count Albert, "never should such union havebeen formed, if the death both of bride and bridegroom by my daggercould have saved the honour of my house from violation. But when I--Iwhose days, whose very hours are numbered--shall be no more, whatcould prevent an undaunted suitor, fortified by Duke Ferrand's favour,by the general applause of his country, and perhaps by the unfortunateprepossession of my brother Arnold, from carrying his point againstthe resistance and scruples of a solitary maiden?"

  "Rudolph is dead," replied Arthur, "and may Heaven assoilzie him fromguilt! But were he alive, and urging his suit on Anne of Geierstein,he would find there was a combat to be fought"----

  "Which has been already decided," answered Count Albert. "Now, markme, Arthur de Vere! My daughter has told me of the passages betwixtyou and her. Your sentiments and conduct are worthy of the noble houseyou descend from, which I well know ranks with the most illustrious inEurope. You are indeed disinherited, but so is Anne of Geierstein,save such pittance as her uncle may impart to her of her paternalinheritance. If you share it together till better days (alwayssupposing your noble father gives his consent, for my child shallenter no house against the will of its head), my daughter knows thatshe has my willing consent, and my blessing. My brother shall alsoknow my pleasure. He will approve my purpose; for, though dead tothoughts of honour and chivalry, he is alive to social feelings, loveshis niece, and has friendship for thee and for thy father. What say'stthou, young man, to taking a beggarly countess to aid thee in thejourney of life? I believe--nay, I prophesy (for I stand so much onthe edge of the grave, that methinks I command a view beyond it), thata lustre will one day, after I have long ended my doubtful and stormylife, beam on the coronets of De Vere and Geierstein."

  De Vere threw himself from his horse, clasped the hand of CountAlbert, and was about to exhaust himself in thanks; but the countinsisted on his silence.

  "We are about to part," he said. "The time is short--the place isdangerous. You are to me, personally speaking, less than nothing. Hadany one of the many schemes of ambition which I have pursued led me tosuccess, the son of a banished earl had not been the son-in-law I hadchosen. Rise and remount your horse--thanks are unpleasing when theyare not merited."

  Arthur arose, and, mounting his horse, threw his raptures into a moreacceptable form, endeavouring to describe how his love for Anne, andefforts for her happiness, should express his gratitude to her father;and, observing that the count listened with some pleasure to thepicture
he drew of their future life, he could not helpexclaiming,--"And you, my lord--you who have been the author of allthis happiness, will you not be the witness and partaker of it?Believe me, we will strive to soften the effect of the hard blowswhich fortune has dealt to you, and, should a ray of better luck shineupon us, it will be the more welcome that you can share it."

  "Forbear such folly," said the Count Albert of Geierstein. "I know mylast scene is approaching. Hear and tremble. The Duke of Burgundy issentenced to die, and the Secret and Invisible Judges, who doom insecret and avenge in secret, like the Deity, have given the cord andthe dagger to my hand."

  "Oh, cast from you these vile symbols!" exclaimed Arthur, withenthusiasm; "let them find butchers and common stabbers to do such anoffice, and not dishonour the noble Lord of Geierstein!"

  "Peace, foolish boy!" answered the count. "The oath by which I amsworn is higher than that clouded sky, more deeply fixed than thosedistant mountains. Nor think my act is that of an assassin, though forsuch I might plead the Duke's own example. I send not hirelings, likethese base Stradiots, to hunt his life, without imperilling mine own.I give not his daughter--innocent of his offences--the choice betwixta disgraceful marriage and a discreditable retreat from the world. No,Arthur de Vere, I seek Charles with the resolved mind of one who, totake the life of an adversary, exposes himself to certain death."

  "I pray you speak no further of it," said Arthur, very anxiously."Consider I serve for the present the prince whom you threaten"----

  "And art bound," interrupted the count, "to unfold to him what I tellyou. I desire you should do so; and though he hath already neglected asummons of the Tribunal, I am glad to have this opportunity of sendinghim personal defiance. Say to Charles of Burgundy that he has wrongedAlbert of Geierstein. He who is injured in his honour loses all valuefor his life, and whoever does so has full command over that ofanother man. Bid him keep himself well from me, since, if he see asecond sun of the approaching year rise over the distant Alps, Albertof Geierstein is forsworn.--And now begone, for I see a partyapproach under a Burgundian banner. They will insure your safety, but,should I remain longer, would endanger mine."

  So saying, the Count of Geierstein turned his horse and rode off.

  FOOTNOTES:

  [13] _Guantes_, used by the Spanish as the French say etrennes, or theEnglish handsell or luckpenny--phrases used by inferiors to theirpatrons as the bringers of good news.