Anne of Geierstein; Or, The Maiden of the Mist. Volume 1 (of 2) Read online

  CHAPTER III.

  Cursed be the gold and silver, which persuade Weak man to follow far fatiguing trade. The lily, peace, outshines the silver store, And life is dearer than the golden ore. Yet money tempts us o'er the desert brown, To every distant mart and wealthy town. _Hassan, or the Camel-driver._

  Arthur Philipson and Anne of Geierstein, thus placed together in asituation which brought them into the closest possible contiguity,felt a slight degree of embarrassment; the young man, doubtless, fromthe fear of being judged a poltroon in the eyes of the maiden by whomhe had been rescued, and the young woman, perhaps, in consequence ofthe exertion she had made, or a sense of being placed suddenly in asituation of such proximity to the youth whose life she had probablysaved.

  "And now, maiden," said Arthur, "I must repair to my father. The lifewhich I owe to your assistance can scarce be called welcome to me,unless I am permitted to hasten to his rescue."

  He was here interrupted by another bugle-blast, which seemed to comefrom the quarter in which the elder Philipson and his guide had beenleft by their young and daring companion. Arthur looked in thatdirection; but the platform, which he had seen but imperfectly fromthe tree, when he was perched in that place of refuge, was invisiblefrom the rock on which they now stood.

  "It would cost me nothing to step back on yonder root," said the youngwoman, "to spy from thence whether I could see aught of your friends.But I am convinced they are under safer guidance than either yours ormine; for the horn announces that my uncle, or some of my youngkinsmen, have reached them. They are by this time on their way to theGeierstein, to which, with your permission, I will become your guide;for you may be assured that my uncle Arnold will not allow you to passfarther to-day; and we shall but lose time by endeavouring to findyour friends, who, situated where you say you left them, will reachthe Geierstein sooner than we shall. Follow me, then, or I mustsuppose you weary of my guidance."

  "Sooner suppose me weary of the life which your guidance has in allprobability saved," replied Arthur, and prepared to attend her; at thesame time taking a view of her dress and person, which confirmed thesatisfaction he had in following such a conductor, and which we shalltake the liberty to detail somewhat more minutely than he could do atthat time.

  An upper vest, neither so close as to display the person, a habitforbidden by the sumptuary laws of the canton, nor so loose as to bean incumbrance in walking or climbing, covered a close tunic of adifferent colour, and came down beneath the middle of the leg, butsuffered the ankle, in all its fine proportions, to be completelyvisible. The foot was defended by a sandal, the point of which wasturned upwards, and the crossings and knots of the strings, whichsecured it on the front of the leg, were garnished with silver rings.The upper vest was gathered round the middle by a sash ofparty-coloured silk, ornamented with twisted threads of gold; whilethe tunic, open at the throat, permitted the shape and exquisitewhiteness of a well-formed neck to be visible at the collar, and foran inch or two beneath. The small portion of the throat and bosom thusexposed was even more brilliantly fair than was promised by thecountenance, which last bore some marks of having been freely exposedto the sun and air, by no means in a degree to diminish its beauty,but just so far as to show that the maiden possessed the health whichis purchased by habits of rural exercise. Her long fair hair fell downin a profusion of curls on each side of a face, whose blue eyes,lovely features, and dignified simplicity of expression implied atonce a character of gentleness and of the self-relying resolution of amind too virtuous to suspect evil, and too noble to fear it. Abovethese locks, beauty's natural and most beseeming ornament--or rather,I should say, amongst them--was placed the small bonnet, which, fromits size, little answered the purpose of protecting the head, butserved to exercise the ingenuity of the fair wearer, who had notfailed, according to the prevailing custom of the mountain maidens, todecorate the tiny cap with a heron's feather, and the then unusualluxury of a small and thin chain of gold, long enough to encircle thecap four or five times, and having the ends secured under a broadmedal of the same costly metal.

  I have only to add, that the stature of the young person wassomething above the common size, and that the whole contour of herform, without being in the slightest degree masculine, resembled thatof Minerva, rather than the proud beauties of Juno, or the yieldinggraces of Venus. The noble brow, the well-formed and active limbs, thefirm and yet light step--above all, the total absence of anythingresembling the consciousness of personal beauty, and the open andcandid look, which seemed desirous of knowing nothing that was hidden,and conscious that she herself had nothing to hide, were traits notunworthy of the goddess of wisdom and of chastity.

  The road which the young Englishman pursued, under the guidance ofthis beautiful young woman, was difficult and unequal, but could notbe termed dangerous, at least in comparison to those precipices overwhich Arthur had recently passed. It was, in fact, a continuation ofthe path which the slip or slide of earth, so often mentioned, hadinterrupted; and although it had sustained damage in several places atthe period of the same earthquake, yet there were marks of thesehaving been already repaired in such a rude manner as made the waysufficient for the necessary intercourse of a people so indifferent asthe Swiss to smooth or level paths. The maiden also gave Arthur tounderstand, that the present road took a circuit for the purpose ofgaining that on which he was lately travelling, and that, if he andhis companions had turned off at the place where this new track unitedwith the old pathway, they would have escaped the danger which hadattended their keeping the road by the verge of the precipice.

  The path which they now pursued was rather averted from the torrent,though still within hearing of its sullen thunders, which seemed toincrease as they ascended parallel to its course, till suddenly theroad, turning short, and directing itself straight upon the oldcastle, brought them within sight of one of the most splendid andawful scenes of that mountainous region.

  The ancient tower of Geierstein, though neither extensive nordistinguished by architectural ornament, possessed an air of terribledignity by its position on the very verge of the opposite bank of thetorrent, which, just at the angle of the rock on which the ruins aresituated, falls sheer over a cascade of nearly a hundred feet inheight, and then rushes down the defile, through a trough of livingrock, which perhaps its waves have been deepening since time itselfhad a commencement. Facing, and at the same time looking down uponthis eternal roar of waters, stood the old tower, built so close tothe verge of the precipice that the buttresses with which thearchitect had strengthened the foundation seemed a part of the solidrock itself, and a continuation of its perpendicular ascent. As usualthroughout Europe in the feudal times, the principal part of thebuilding was a massive square pile, the decayed summit of which wasrendered picturesque, by flanking turrets of different sizes andheights, some round, some angular, some ruinous, some tolerablyentire, varying the outline of the building as seen against the stormysky.

  A projecting sallyport, descending by a flight of steps from thetower, had in former times given access to a bridge connecting thecastle with that side of the stream on which Arthur Philipson and hisfair guide now stood. A single arch, or rather one rib of an arch,consisting of single stones, still remained, and spanned the riverimmediately in front of the waterfall. In former times this arch hadserved for the support of a wooden drawbridge, of more convenientbreadth, and of such length and weight as must have been ratherunmanageable, had it not been lowered on some solid resting-place. Itis true, the device was attended with this inconvenience, that evenwhen the drawbridge was up, there remained a possibility ofapproaching the castle gate by means of this narrow rib of stone. Butas it was not above eighteen inches broad, and could only admit thedaring foe who should traverse it to a doorway regularly defended bygate and portcullis, and having flanking turrets and projections, fromwhich stones, darts, melted lead, and scalding water might be poureddown on the soldiery who should venture to approach Geierstein b
y thisprecarious access, the possibility of such an attempt was notconsidered as diminishing the security of the garrison.

  In the time we treat of, the castle being entirely ruined anddismantled, and the door, drawbridge, and portcullis gone, thedilapidated gateway, and the slender arch which connected the twosides of the stream, were used as a means of communication between thebanks of the river, by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, whomhabit had familiarised with the dangerous nature of the passage.

  Arthur Philipson had, in the meantime, like a good bow when newstrung, regained the elasticity of feeling and character which wasnatural to him. It was not indeed with perfect composure that hefollowed his guide, as she tripped lightly over the narrow arch,composed of rugged stones, and rendered wet and slippery with theperpetual drizzle of the mist issuing from the neighbouring cascade.Nor was it without apprehension that he found himself performing thisperilous feat in the neighbourhood of the waterfall itself, whosedeafening roar he could not exclude from his ears, though he took carenot to turn his head towards its terrors, lest his brain should againbe dizzied by the tumult of the waters as they shot forward from theprecipice above, and plunged themselves into what seemed thefathomless gulf below. But notwithstanding these feelings ofagitation, the natural shame to show cowardice where a beautiful youngfemale exhibited so much indifference, and the desire to regain hischaracter in the eyes of his guide, prevented Arthur from again givingway to the appalling feelings by which he had been overwhelmed a shorttime before. Stepping firmly on, yet cautiously supporting himselfwith his piked staff, he traced the light footsteps of his guide alongthe bridge of dread, and followed her through the ruined sallyport, towhich they ascended by stairs which were equally dilapidated.

  The gateway admitted them into a mass of ruins, formerly a sort ofcourtyard to the donjon, which rose in gloomy dignity above the wreckof what had been works destined for external defence, or buildings forinternal accommodation. They quickly passed through these ruins, overwhich vegetation had thrown a wild mantle of ivy, and other creepingshrubs, and issued from them through the main gate of the castle intoone of those spots in which Nature often embosoms her sweetestcharms, in the midst of districts chiefly characterised by waste anddesolation.

  The castle in this aspect also rose considerably above theneighbouring ground, but the elevation of the site, which towards thetorrent was an abrupt rock, was on this side a steep eminence, whichhad been scarped like a modern glacis, to render the building moresecure. It was now covered with young trees and bushes, out of whichthe tower itself seemed to rise in ruined dignity. Beyond this hangingthicket the view was of a very different character. A piece of ground,amounting to more than a hundred acres, seemed scooped out of therocks and mountains, which, retaining the same savage character withthe tract in which the travellers had been that morning bewildered,enclosed, and as it were defended, a limited space of a mild andfertile character. The surface of this little domain was considerablyvaried, but its general aspect was a gentle slope to the south-west.

  The principal object which it presented was a large house composed ofhuge logs, without any pretence to form or symmetry, but indicating,by the smoke which arose from it, as well as the extent of theneighbouring offices, and the improved and cultivated character of thefields around, that it was the abode, not of splendour certainly, butof ease and competence. An orchard of thriving fruit-trees extended tothe southward of the dwelling. Groves of walnut and chestnut grew instately array, and even a vineyard, of three or four acres, showedthat the cultivation of the grape was understood and practised. It isnow universal in Switzerland, but was, in those early days, almostexclusively confined to a few more fortunate proprietors, who hadthe rare advantage of uniting intelligence with opulent, or at leasteasy, circumstances.

  GEIERSTEIN. Drawn and Etched by R. de los Rios.]

  There were fair ranges of pasture-fields, into which the fine race ofcattle which constitute the pride and wealth of the Swiss mountaineershad been brought down from the more Alpine grazings where they had fedduring the summer, to be near shelter and protection when the autumnalstorms might be expected. On some selected spots, the lambs of thelast season fed in plenty and security, and in others, huge trees, thenatural growth of the soil, were suffered to remain, from motives ofconvenience probably, that they might be at hand when timber wasrequired for domestic use, but giving, at the same time, a woodlandcharacter to a scene otherwise agricultural. Through thismountain-paradise the course of a small brook might be traced, nowshowing itself to the sun, which had by this time dispelled the fogs,now intimating its course, by its gently sloping banks, clothed insome places with lofty trees, or concealing itself under thickets ofhawthorn and nut bushes. This stream, by a devious and gentle course,which seemed to indicate a reluctance to leave this quiet region,found its way at length out of the sequestered domain, and, like ayouth hurrying from the gay and tranquil sports of boyhood into thewild career of active life, finally united itself with the boisteroustorrent, which, breaking down tumultuously from the mountains, shookthe ancient Tower of Geierstein as it rolled down the adjacent rock,and then rushed howling through the defile in which our youthfultraveller had well-nigh lost his life.

  Eager as the younger Philipson was to rejoin his father, he could nothelp pausing for a moment to wonder how so much beauty should be foundamid such scenes of horror, and to look back on the Tower ofGeierstein, and on the huge cliff from which it derived its name, asif to ascertain, by the sight of these distinguished landmarks, thathe was actually in the neighbourhood of the savage wild where he hadencountered so much danger and terror. Yet so narrow were the limitsof this cultivated farm, that it hardly required such a retrospect tosatisfy the spectator that the spot susceptible of human industry, andon which it seemed that a considerable degree of labour had beenbestowed, bore a very small proportion to the wilderness in which itwas situated. It was on all sides surrounded by lofty hills, in someplaces rising into walls of rock, in others clothed with dark andsavage forests of the pine and the larch, of primeval antiquity. Abovethese, from the eminence on which the tower was situated, could beseen the almost rosy hue in which an immense glacier threw back thesun; and still higher over the frozen surface of that icy sea arose,in silent dignity, the pale peaks of those countless mountains, onwhich the snow eternally rests.

  What we have taken some time to describe, occupied young Philipsononly for one or two hurried minutes; for on a sloping lawn, which wasin front of the farm-house, as the mansion might properly be styled,he saw five or six persons, the foremost of whom, from his gait, hisdress, and the form of his cap, he could easily distinguish as theparent whom he hardly expected at one time to have again beheld.

  He followed, therefore, his conductress with a glad step, as she ledthe way down the steep ascent on which the ruined tower was situated.They approached the group whom Arthur had noticed, the foremost ofwhich was his father, who hastily came forward to meet him, in companywith another person, of advanced age, and stature well-nigh gigantic,and who, from his simple yet majestic bearing, seemed the worthycountryman of William Tell, Stauffacher, Winkelried, and other Swissworthies, whose stout hearts and hardy arms had, in the preceding age,vindicated against countless hosts their personal liberty, and theindependence of their country.

  With a natural courtesy, as if to spare the father and son manywitnesses to a meeting which must be attended with emotion, theLandamman himself, in walking forward with the elder Philipson, signedto those by whom he was attended, all of whom seemed young men, toremain behind. They remained accordingly, examining, as it seemed, theguide Antonio, upon the adventures of the strangers. Anne, theconductress of Arthur Philipson, had but time to say to him, "Yonderold man is my uncle, Arnold Biederman, and these young men are mykinsmen," when the former, with the elder traveller, were close beforethem. The Landamman, with the same propriety of feeling which he hadbefore displayed, signed to his niece to move a little aside; yetwhile requiring from her an account of her
morning's expedition, hewatched the interview of the father and son with as much curiosity ashis natural sense of complaisance permitted him to testify. It was ofa character different from what he had expected.

  We have already described the elder Philipson as a father devotedlyattached to his son, ready to rush on death when he had expected tolose him, and equally overjoyed at heart, doubtless, to see him againrestored to his affections. It might have been therefore expected thatthe father and son would have rushed into each other's arms, and suchprobably was the scene which Arnold Biederman expected to havewitnessed.

  But the English traveller, in common with many of his countrymen,covered keen and quick feelings with much appearance of coldness andreserve, and thought it a weakness to give unlimited sway even to theinfluence of the most amiable and most natural emotions. Eminentlyhandsome in youth, his countenance, still fine in his more advancedyears, had an expression which intimated an unwillingness either toyield to passion or encourage confidence. His pace, when he firstbeheld his son, had been quickened by the natural wish to meet him;but he slackened it as they drew near to each other, and when theymet, said in a tone rather of censure and admonition thanaffection,--"Arthur, may the Saints forgive the pain thou hast thisday given me."

  "Amen," said the youth. "I must need pardon since I have given youpain. Believe, however, that I acted for the best."

  "It is well, Arthur, that in acting for the best, according to yourforward will, you have not encountered the worst."

  "That I have not," answered the son, with the same devoted and patientsubmission, "is owing to this maiden," pointing to Anne, who stood ata few paces' distance, desirous perhaps of avoiding to witness thereproof of the father, which might seem to her rather ill-timed andunreasonable.

  "To the maiden my thanks shall be rendered," said his father, "when Ican study how to pay them in an adequate manner; but is it well orcomely, think you, that you should receive from a maiden the succourwhich it is your duty as a man to extend to the weaker sex?"

  Arthur held down his head and blushed deeply, while Arnold Biederman,sympathising with his feelings, stepped forward and mingled in theconversation.

  "Never be abashed, my young guest, that you have been indebted foraught of counsel or assistance to a maiden of Unterwalden. Know thatthe freedom of their country owes no less to the firmness and wisdomof her daughters than to that of her sons.--And you, my elder guest,who have, I judge, seen many years and various lands, must have oftenknown examples how the strong are saved by the help of the weak, theproud by the aid of the humble."

  "I have at least learned," said the Englishman, "to debate no pointunnecessarily with the host who has kindly harboured me;" and afterone glance at his son, which seemed to kindle with the fondestaffection, he resumed, as the party turned back towards the house, aconversation which he had been maintaining with his new acquaintancebefore Arthur and the maiden had joined them.

  Arthur had in the meantime an opportunity of observing the figure andfeatures of their Swiss landlord, which, I have already hinted,exhibited a primeval simplicity mixed with a certain rude dignity,arising out of its masculine and unaffected character. The dress didnot greatly differ in form from the habit of the female which we havedescribed. It consisted of an upper frock, shaped like the modernshirt, and only open at the bosom, worn above a tunic or underdoublet. But the man's vest was considerably shorter in the skirts,which did not come lower down than the kilt of the ScottishHighlander; a species of boots or buskins rose above the knee, and theperson was thus entirely clothed. A bonnet made of the fur of themarten, and garnished with a silver medal, was the only part of thedress which displayed anything like ornament; the broad belt whichgathered the garment together was of buff leather, secured by a largebrass buckle.

  But the figure of him who wore this homely attire, which seemed almostwholly composed of the fleeces of the mountain sheep and the spoils ofanimals of the chase, would have commanded respect wherever the wearerhad presented himself, especially in those warlike days, when men werejudged of according to the promising or unpromising qualities of theirthews and sinews. To those who looked at Arnold Biederman from thispoint of view, he displayed the size and form, the broad shoulders andprominent muscles, of a Hercules. But to such as looked rather at hiscountenance, the steady sagacious features, open front, large blueeyes, and deliberate resolution which it expressed, more resembled thecharacter of the fabled King of Gods and Men. He was attended byseveral sons and relatives, young men, among whom he walked,receiving, as his undeniable due, respect and obedience, similar tothat which a herd of deer are observed to render to the monarch stag.

  While Arnold Biederman walked and spoke with the elder stranger, theyoung men seemed closely to scrutinise Arthur, and occasionallyinterrogated in whispers their relation Anne, receiving from her briefand impatient answers, which rather excited than appeased the vein ofmerriment in which the mountaineers indulged, very much, as it seemedto the young Englishman, at the expense of their guest. To feelhimself exposed to derision was not softened by the reflection, thatin such a society it would probably be attached to all who could nottread on the edge of a precipice with a step as firm and undismayed asif they walked the street of a city. However unreasonable ridicule maybe, it is always unpleasing to be subjected to it, but moreparticularly is it distressing to a young man, where beauty is alistener. It was some consolation to Arthur that he thought the maidencertainly did not enjoy the jest, and seemed by word and look toreprove the rudeness of her companions; but this he feared was onlyfrom a sense of humanity.

  "She, too, must despise me," he thought, "though civility, unknown tothese ill-taught boors, has enabled her to conceal contempt under theguise of pity. She can but judge of me from that which she hasseen--if she could know me better" (such was his proud thought), "shemight perhaps rank me more highly."

  As the travellers entered the habitation of Arnold Biederman, theyfound preparations made in a large apartment, which served the purposeof general accommodation, for a homely but plentiful meal. A glanceround the walls showed the implements of agriculture and the chase;but the eyes of the elder Philipson rested upon a leathern corselet, along heavy halberd, and a two-handed sword, which were displayed as asort of trophy. Near these, but covered with dust, unfurbished andneglected, hung a helmet, with a visor, such as was used by knightsand men-at-arms. The golden garland, or coronal twisted around it,though sorely tarnished, indicated noble birth and rank; and thecrest, which was a vulture of the species which gave name to the oldcastle and its adjacent cliff, suggested various conjectures to theEnglish guest, who, acquainted in a great measure with the history ofthe Swiss revolution, made little doubt that in this relic he saw sometrophy of the ancient warfare between the inhabitants of thesemountains, and the feudal lord to whom they had of yore appertained.

  A summons to the hospitable board disturbed the train of the Englishmerchant's reflections; and a large company, comprising the wholeinhabitants of every description that lived under Biederman's roof,sat down to a plentiful repast of goat's flesh, fish, preparations ofmilk of various kinds, cheese, and, for the upper mess, the venison ofa young chamois. The Landamman himself did the honours of the tablewith great kindness and simplicity, and urged the strangers to show,by their appetite, that they thought themselves as welcome as hedesired to make them. During the repast, he carried on a conversationwith his elder guest, while the younger people at table, as well asthe menials, ate in modesty and silence. Ere the dinner was finished,a figure crossed on the outside of the large window which lighted theeating-hall, the sight of which seemed to occasion a lively sensationamongst such as observed it.

  "Who passed?" said old Biederman to those seated opposite to thewindow.

  "It is our cousin, Rudolph of Donnerhugel," answered one of Arnold'ssons eagerly.

  The annunciation seemed to give great pleasure to the younger part ofthe company, especially the sons of the Landamman; while the head ofthe family only said with a grave, ca
lm voice,--"Your kinsman iswelcome--tell him so, and let him come hither."

  Two or three arose for this purpose, as if there had been a contentionamong them who should do the honours of the house to the new guest. Heentered presently--a young man, unusually tall, well-proportioned andactive, with a quantity of dark-brown locks curling around his face,together with mustaches of the same, or rather a still darker hue. Hiscap was small considering the quantity of his thickly clustering hair,and rather might be said to hang upon one side of his head than tocover it. His clothes were of the same form and general fashion asthose of Arnold, but made of much finer cloth, the manufacture of theGerman loom, and ornamented in a rich and fanciful manner. One sleeveof his vest was dark green, curiously laced and embroidered withdevices in silver, while the rest of the garment was scarlet. His sashwas twisted and netted with gold, and besides answering the purpose ofa belt, by securing the upper garment round his waist, sustained asilver-hilted poniard. His finery was completed by boots, the tips ofwhich were so long as to turn upwards with a peak, after a prevailingfashion in the Middle Ages. A golden chain hung round his neck, andsustained a large medallion of the same metal.

  This young gallant was instantly surrounded by the race of Biederman,among whom he appeared to be considered as the model upon which theSwiss youth ought to build themselves, and whose gait, opinions,dress, and manners all ought to follow who would keep pace with thefashion of the day, in which he reigned an acknowledged and unrivalledexample.

  By two persons in the company, however, it seemed to Arthur Philipsonthat this young man was received with less distinguished marks ofregard than those with which he was hailed by the general voice of theyouths present. Arnold Biederman himself was at least no way warm inwelcoming the young Bernese, for such was Rudolph's country. The youngman drew from his bosom a sealed packet, which he delivered to theLandamman with demonstrations of great respect, and seemed to expectthat Arnold, when he had broken the seal and perused the contents,would say something to him on the subject. But the patriarch only badehim be seated, and partake of their meal, and Rudolph found a placeaccordingly next to Anne of Geierstein, which was yielded to him byone of the sons of Arnold with ready courtesy.

  It seemed also to the observant young Englishman, that the new comerwas received with marked coldness by the maiden, to whom he appearedeager and solicitous to pay his compliments, by whose side he hadcontrived to seat himself at the well-furnished board, and to whom heseemed more anxious to recommend himself, than to partake of the foodwhich it offered. He observed the gallant whisper her, and looktowards him. Anne gave a very brief reply, but one of the youngBiedermans, who sat on his other hand, was probably morecommunicative, as the youths both laughed, and the maiden again seemeddisconcerted, and blushed with displeasure.

  "Had I either of these sons of the mountain," thought young Philipson,"upon six yards of level greensward, if there be so much flat groundin this country, methinks I were more likely to spoil their mirth thanto furnish food for it. It is as marvellous to see such conceitedboors under the same roof with so courteous and amiable a damsel, asit would be to see one of their shaggy bears dance a rigadoon with amaiden like the daughter of our host. Well, I need not concern myselfmore than I can help about her beauty or their breeding, since morningwill separate me from them for ever."

  As these reflections passed through the young guest's mind, the fatherof the family called for a cup of wine, and having required the twostrangers to pledge him in a maple cup of considerable size, he sent asimilar goblet to Rudolph Donnerhugel. "Yet you," he said, "kinsman,are used to more highly flavoured wine than the half-ripened grapes ofGeierstein can supply.--Would you think it, Sir Merchant," hecontinued, addressing Philipson, "there are burghers of Berne who sendfor wine for their own drinking both to France and Germany?"

  "My kinsman disapproves of that," replied Rudolph; "yet every placeis not blessed with vineyards like Geierstein, which produces all thatheart and eye can desire." This was said with a glance at his faircompanion, who did not appear to take the compliment, while the envoyof Berne proceeded: "But our wealthier burghers, having somesuperfluous crowns, think it no extravagance to barter them for agoblet of better wine than our own mountains can produce. But we willbe more frugal when we have at our disposal tuns of the wine ofBurgundy, for the mere trouble of transporting them."

  "How mean you by that, cousin Rudolph?" said Arnold Biederman.

  "Methinks, respected kinsman," answered the Bernese, "your lettersmust have told you that our Diet is likely to declare war againstBurgundy?"

  "Ah! And you know, then, the contents of my letters?" said Arnold;"another mark how times are changed at Berne, and with the Diet ofSwitzerland. When did all her grey-haired statesmen die, that ourallies should have brought beardless boys into their councils?"

  "The Senate of Berne, and the Diet of the Confederacy," said the youngman, partly abashed, partly in vindication of what he had beforespoken, "allow the young men to know their purposes, since it is theyby whom they must be executed. The head which thinks may well confidein the hand that strikes."

  "Not till the moment of dealing the blow, young man," said ArnoldBiederman, sternly. "What kind of counsellor is he who talks looselythe secrets of state affairs before women and strangers? Go, Rudolph,and all of ye, and try by manly exercises which is best fitted toserve your country, rather than give your judgment upon hermeasures.--Hold, young man," he continued, addressing Arthur, who hadarisen, "this does not apply to you, who are unused to mountaintravel, and require rest after it."

  "Under your favour, sir, not so," said the elder stranger. "We hold,in England, that the best refreshment after we have been exhausted byone species of exercise is to betake ourselves to another; as riding,for example, affords more relief to one fatigued by walking, than abed of down would. So, if your young men will permit, my son will jointheir exercises."

  "He will find them rough playmates," answered the Switzer; "but be itat your pleasure."

  The young men went out accordingly to the open lawn in front of thehouse. Anne of Geierstein, and some females of the household, sat downon a bank to judge which performed best, and shouts, loud laughing,and all that announces the riot of juvenile spirits occupied by manlysports, was soon after heard by the two seniors, as they sat togetherin the hall. The master of the house resumed the wine-flask, and,having filled the cup of his guest, poured the remainder into his own.

  "At an age, worthy stranger," he said, "when the blood grows colder,and the feelings heavier, a moderate cup of wine brings back lightthoughts, and makes the limbs supple. Yet, I almost wish that Noah hadnever planted the grape, when of late years I have seen with my owneyes my countrymen swill wine like very Germans, till they were likegorged swine, incapable of sense, thought, or motion."

  "It is a vice," said the Englishman, "which I have observed gainsground in your country, where within a century I have heard it wastotally unknown."

  "It was so," said the Swiss, "for wine was seldom made at home, andnever imported from abroad; for indeed none possessed the means ofpurchasing that, or aught else, which our valleys produce not. But ourwars and our victories have gained us wealth as well as fame; and inthe poor thoughts of one Switzer, at least, we had been better withoutboth, had we not also gained liberty by the same exertion. It issomething, however, that commerce may occasionally send into ourremote mountains a sensible visitor like yourself, worthy guest, whosediscourse shows him to be a man of sagacity and discernment; forthough I love not the increasing taste for trinkets and gewgaws whichyou merchants introduce, yet I acknowledge that we simple mountaineerslearn from men like you more of the world around us, than we couldacquire by our own exertions. You are bound, you say, to Bale, andthence to the Duke of Burgundy's leaguer?"

  "I am so, my worthy host," said the merchant--"that is, providing Ican perform my journey with safety."

  "Your safety, good friend, may be assured, if you list to tarry fortwo or three days; for in that space I
shall myself take the journey,and with such an escort as will prevent any risk of danger. You willfind in me a sure and faithful guide, and I shall learn from you muchof other countries, which it concerns me to know better than I do. Isit a bargain?"

  "The proposal is too much to my advantage to be refused," said theEnglishman; "but may I ask the purpose of your journey?"

  "I chid yonder boy but now," answered Biederman, "for speaking onpublic affairs without reflection, and before the whole family; butour tidings and my errand need not be concealed from a considerateperson like you, who must indeed soon learn it from public rumour. Youknow doubtless the mutual hatred which subsists between Louis XI. ofFrance and Charles of Burgundy, whom men call the Bold; and havingseen these countries, as I understand from your former discourse, youare probably well aware of the various contending interests, which,besides the personal hatred of the sovereigns, make themirreconcilable enemies. Now Louis, whom the world cannot match forcraft and subtlety, is using all his influence, by distributions oflarge sums amongst some of the counsellors of our neighbours of Berne,by pouring treasures into the exchequer of that state itself, byholding out the bait of emolument to the old men, and encouraging theviolence of the young, to urge the Bernese into a war with the Duke.Charles, on the other hand, is acting, as he frequently does, exactlyas Louis could have wished. Our neighbours and allies of Berne do not,like us of the Forest Cantons, confine themselves to pasture oragriculture, but carry on considerable commerce, which the Duke ofBurgundy has in various instances interrupted, by the exactions andviolence of his officers in the frontier towns, as is doubtless wellknown to you."

  "Unquestionably," answered the merchant; "they are universallyregarded as vexatious."

  "You will not then be surprised, that, solicited by the one sovereign,and aggrieved by the other, proud of past victories, and ambitious ofadditional power, Berne and the City Cantons of our confederacy, whoserepresentatives, from their superior wealth and better education, havemore to say in our Diet than we of the Forests, should be bent uponwar, from which it has hitherto happened that the Republic has alwaysderived victory, wealth, and increase of territory."

  "Ay, worthy host, and of glory," said Philipson, interrupting him withsome enthusiasm; "I wonder not that the brave youths of your statesare willing to thrust themselves upon new wars, since their pastvictories have been so brilliant and so far-famed."

  "You are no wise merchant, kind guest," answered the host, "if youregard success in former desperate undertakings as an encouragement tofuture rashness. Let us make a better use of past victories. When wefought for our liberties God blessed our arms; but will He do so if wefight either for aggrandisement or for the gold of France?"

  "Your doubt is just," said the merchant, more sedately; "but supposeyou draw the sword to put an end to the vexatious exactions ofBurgundy?"

  "Hear me, good friend," answered the Switzer; "it may be that we ofthe Forest Cantons think too little of those matters of trade, whichso much engross the attention of the burghers of Berne. Yet we willnot desert our neighbours and allies in a just quarrel; and it iswell-nigh settled that a deputation shall be sent to the Duke ofBurgundy to request redress. In this embassy the General Diet nowassembled at Berne have requested that I should take some share; andhence the journey in which I propose that you should accompany me."

  "It will be much to my satisfaction to travel in your company, worthyhost," said the Englishman. "But, as I am a true man, methinks yourport and figure resemble an envoy of defiance rather than a messengerof peace."

  "And I too might say," replied the Switzer, "that your language andsentiments, my honoured guest, rather belong to the sword than themeasuring-wand."

  "I was bred to the sword, worthy sir, before I took the cloth-yard inmy hand," replied Philipson, smiling, "and it may be I am still morepartial to my old trade than wisdom would altogether recommend."

  "I thought so," said Arnold; "but then you fought most likely underyour country's banners against a foreign and national enemy; and inthat case I will admit that war has something in it which elevates theheart above the due sense it should entertain of the calamityinflicted and endured by God's creatures on each side. But the warfarein which I was engaged had no such gilding. It was the miserable warof Zurich [_c_], where Switzers levelled their pikes against thebosoms of their own countrymen; and quarter was asked and refused inthe same kindly mountain language. From such remembrances your warlikerecollections are probably free."

  The merchant hung down his head and pressed his forehead with hishand, as one to whom the most painful thoughts were suddenlyrecalled.

  "Alas!" he said, "I deserve to feel the pain which your words inflict.What nation can know the woes of England that has not felt them--whateye can estimate them which has not seen a land torn and bleeding withthe strife of two desperate factions, battles fought in everyprovince, plains heaped with slain, and scaffolds drenched in blood!Even in your quiet valleys, methinks, you may have heard of the CivilWars of England?"

  "I do indeed bethink me," said the Switzer, "that England had lost herpossessions in France during many years of bloody internal warsconcerning the colour of a rose--was it not?--But these are ended."

  "For the present," answered Philipson, "it would seem so."

  As he spoke, there was a knock at the door; the master of the housesaid, "Come in!" the door opened, and, with the reverence which wasexpected from young persons towards their elders in those pastoralregions, the fine form of Anne of Geierstein presented itself.